


Scavengers hide to purr and dance

by Felicia_Chan



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexual Abuse, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felicia_Chan/pseuds/Felicia_Chan
Summary: Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his paws, in the form of a small orange beastie, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For his part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let his kitten run away. (English translation of my french Bleach Fanfiction)
Relationships: Aizen Sousuke/Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. Dhzari or Prelude to Lost Beings

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first Bleach Fanfiction, hope you'll like it !
> 
> Please enjoy !
> 
> (I did the english translation of my french text myself, hope it's not too bad)

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 1: Dhzari or Prelude to Lost Beings

_"The opening, the exordium, the **prelude** , serve to the speaker, the poet, the musician, to dispose their own mind, and the listeners to prepare their attention. »_   
_Thoughts (1774-1824), Joseph Joubert_

\

A scorching wind swept across the orange dunes, making the dust and grains of sand dance. These turbulent swirls filtered the last glowing flashes of a setting sun and twirled in the shadows carved by the changing reliefs of the eastern desert. A caravan would take shape along a curve shaped by time, moving through the peculiar chiaroscuro of a dying star. It had been gone for several months, and at last its goal could be guessed in the horizon, a rich city on the edge of an oasis, where merchants hoped to make juicy profits. A line of slaves followed the beasts, advancing with difficulty on the ochre sand. At the end of the line, intermittently, one could see reddish-brown locks, matching the desert itself, which swayed under the caress of the Dhzari.

\

At the same moment, in the palace of the lord of this city, a man, leaning against a high column, contemplated the vastness of the desert which offered itself to his eyes of a turquoise unusual in these places. He stood in front of one of the many open bays, on a balcony looking directly outward. He was a tall man, wearing only light-colored pants, and his muscles played under his tanned skin with every movement, animating the tattoo that ran along his back. However, the most striking feature of this man with his eyes lost in the void was his hair of a brilliant blue, matching his eyes, which formed a rebellious mane falling in locks along his face imbued with a rough and wild beauty. Usually marked by a carnivorous smile, he was full of nostalgia and resignation.

Suddenly, the man turned his head sharply to the characteristic sound of footsteps approaching his refuge. His expression froze for a moment when he realized the identity of his visitor and trembled at the call of his name. He reluctantly stepped forward, unwillingly approaching the brown-haired man who had claimed him and who was watching him come, with a gentle smile on his lips. The blueness reached the height of the brown man who dominated him by a few centimeters and who was still smiling, amused by the annoyed look of his right-hand man.

After a few seconds, his smile disappeared and he frowned, seemingly expecting something from his lieutenant. The man with the tattoo frowned a little more and put one knee on the ground, reluctantly bowing to his master. Satisfied, the taller man put one hand on his hair, stroking the azure locks, then tightened his grip and pulled, forcing the kneeling man to look up at him, his features twisted in a sneer of pain.

The lord, smiling again, brushed his cheek with his free hand, the burning gaze of his prey fixed on him, then turned away, releasing his grip. The blueness rose and followed him, displaying a fatalistic air, knowing only too well that he had already annoyed his employer enough for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dhzari is a warm wind blowing over the Sahara and Libya...
> 
> Thank you for reading this first short chapter
> 
> See you soon
> 
> Felicia


	2. Shehili or The Toccata of Sinking Predators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his lap, in the form of a small orange tawny, Grimmjow Jaggerjack suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For her part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let her kitten run away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, thank you for coming back for this second chapter.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it.

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds blow

Chapter 2: Shehili or The Toccata of Sinking Predators

"The **sonata** , for a single instrument or for several instruments together, is a kind of symphony; its name comes from suonare, which means to play one or more instruments; this word was formerly applied only to string or wind instruments; when speaking of keyboard instruments, one said toccare, from which one had made toccata, which means a piece to be touched: for nearly a century, sonata has been called all pieces of this kind, for any instrument whatsoever", Musique, II, 18, FÉTIS*

\

The man followed the brunette to the entrance of a room he knew well, his employer's office. He entered without hesitation, a nonchalant air having replaced any other expression on his face. His boss had preceded him and was waiting for him, already settled at his desk. The bluish one walked over to a chair and settled comfortably.

Moments later, the deep, hoarse voice of the brown-haired man broke the silence that had been established:

\- "Do you feel better than you did before, Grimmjow?"

The aforementioned raised his head, planting his resigned ultramarine gaze into the sloe of a questioning chocolate brown, then slowly nodded :

\- Yeah, he said.

\- Good, then we can get started," smiled the brunette as he retrieved a pile of files waiting on the cabinet, "so, about current affairs, where are we?

\- Noitra has been negotiating with the chiefs of the nomadic tribes, and they all agreed to the offer.

\- Good, very good, what else?

\- We've had reports of tensions at the borders. Ulquiorra requires your authorization to travel to the frontier with an armed troop.

\- Granted. How's the No. 3 in America doing? »

Grimmjow ticked imperceptibly, but immediately recovered, announcing in a neutral tone:

\- He has managed to infiltrate the network and is working to destroy the target. »

A sly smile bloomed on the lips of the tallest man:  


\- Oh, wouldn't that be homesickness," he whispered in a sweet voice. I thought I felt an ounce of nostalgia... "

The bluish one twisted an angry look at his counterpart, before bowing his head, regaining an impassive look. Unfortunately, his eyes could not lie and sheltered the pain and sorrow that his face refused to show. The dark-haired man's smile stretched a little more and he stood up, walking up to him. Grimmjow felt a cold hand slip under his jaw, forcing him to raise his head.

\- You didn't answer me," he whispered, his face becoming serious again, approaching the bluish one, "I asked you if staying by my side was so undistracting that you'd come to regret where you came from. »

His lieutenant clenched his teeth and snubbed, trying to free himself, but the velvet fingers that held his face up did not agree and tightened their grip further.

  
The westerner resigned himself and resolutely regained his usual expression:

\- Nah, I'm not nostalgic, I don't care ok? Does that suit you?

\- Language, my dear, language, picked up the brunette, his eyes shining with a satisfied glow that quickly turned to diabolical. Well, yes, let's say that your answer suits me, but then, tell me my wild lieutenant, who do you belong to? »

The turquoise irises burst into flames, his whole being struggling to claim his freedom and independence that had been lost for too long, while the oriental's fingers redrew the line of his jaw, before coming to touch his full lips which opened up:

\- ... To you ...," Grimmjow articulated, each syllable tearing his throat apart just as surely as a razor blade.

\- You who?

\- Aizen, hissed the bluish one.

\- Come on, angel, we can play this little game for a long time and I have work to do, you know I really love it when you resist me but let's make it short this time. »

Defeated, the nape of the neck still painfully stretched, the bluish man gave way:

\- "I belong to you, Aizen-Sama.

\- Well now, was it that hard ?," the brown whispered, his lips brushing the ear of the smallest one.

\- Mmf! the lieutenant shuddered as he tried to hold back the shivers that had been triggered by the hot breath against his skin.

\- Well, let's resume. Any news from the South? asked Aizen as he grabbed a new file.

\- Tch," Grimmjow replied, regaining his composure. Stark has just returned, he has to submit his report tomorrow. »

\

Several hours later, the dawn was just dancing at the whim of the Shehili as Grimmjow walked out of the office, relieved to have settled all the unfinished matters, an unprecedented din could be heard in the palace. The blueness turned his head just in time to see a red-haired tornado rush in and strike him, sending the two of them rolling a few yards away.

As the American raised his head, groggy, his eyes fell on a scowling figure with liquid amber irises topped by a tuft of hair as extraordinary colorful as his own. Busy rubbing his lower back, the little fury mumbled in his beard. Grimmjow barely had time to open his mouth when the stranger gave him an angry look and ran away, leaving him sitting there in the dust.

The azure watched the young man run away without understanding anything when he heard shouts:

  
\- "Jaggerjack, what are you doing with your ass on the floor?! Catch him! He escaped! "shouted a large perch with long black hair, followed by several guards.

The azure bent his head to the side, trying to quickly analyze the situation, before displaying a cheerful look. A hunt, huh?

It was exactly what he needed! And the little redhead deserved to be corrected for sending him into a commotion in front of the others. Another shout pulled him from his reflection:

\- "What's that face you're making ?! Hurry up, what are you waiting for?! »

  
Grimmjow straightened up and set off in pursuit of the red-haired man with a predatory grin, as excited as a stalking feline, quickly outrunning the chasing group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Shehili is a violent Saharan wind, very hot and very dry, which blows over North Africa and the South of the Mediterranean .
> 
> Do not hesitate to leave your opinion in comments.
> 
> See you soon!
> 
> Felicia


	3. Harmattan or Sinfonia for those who surrender to instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his paws, in the form of a small orange tawny, Grimmjow Jaggerjack suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For his part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let his kitten run away. (English translation of my french Bleach Fanfiction)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, here you are at the threshold of the third chapter, I hope it will satisfy you.

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds blow

  
Chapter 3: Harmattan or Sinfonia for those who surrender to instinct

  
_"Each time a generation appears on the balcony of life, it seems that the **symphony** of the world must attack a new tempo", Giovanni Papini, A Finished Man._

_\_

Shouts and exclamations of rage echoed through the corridors of the building as the small fawn with its flamboyant red mane ran through the palace halls like a fury. Pursued by half the residents of the citadel, he began to run out of breath and frantically scanned the place like a stalked beast, his pupils abnormally dilated.

The corridor he was following suddenly led to an inner courtyard, sheltering a lush, colorful vegetation and a small river that meandered along a terrace paved with white marble. In the center of this peaceful Garden of Eden, one could see a wider pool with ornamented paving, half hidden behind long evanescent veils of acidulous shades, tended between the natural columns offered by the vegetation. The orange one stopped for a moment, subdued in spite of himself by the quiet serenity of the place.

It was this brief moment of hesitation that caused its loss.

A mass hit him, sending him rolling on the ground, stunned. A hoarse and victorious rumble made him raise his head and instinctively he moved backwards. A man stared at him with a grin that was as carnivorous as it was delighted. The fugitive recognized him, having inflicted the exact same treatment a few minutes earlier, and stiffened. Running his hand through his hair of such a peculiar color, his fierce smile growing even bigger, the bluish one exclaimed :

\- "Tch, did you really think you could get away with this? Nnoitra will be hopping mad when he'll find out who finally caught his little prey that runs so fast! »

The smallest one, still on the ground, answered him with a low moan, his eyes hidden under his ginger locks.

\- Oï, I didn't hit you that hard, you did worse earlier!" Grimmjow came closer, frowning.

He reached out his hand, and unconsciously reproducing Aizen's gestures, raised the chin of the little wild beast that had made him run so much. The dilated pupils eclipsing the amber iris of his eyes, the reddened face, the chopped up panting and the air of pure distress of his counterpart jumped out at him.

His eyes narrowed and his face scowled:

  
  
\- Drugs, eh?" he grumbled, "so that's what they plan to do with you? Raah, I hate it when they do that.

Grimmjow sighed:

\- I'm sorry, but I have to take you back..."

The young orange-colored boy glanced at him, begging and pleading, weakly trying to get his face out of the bluish grip, without success.

\

A little above, leaning against the balustrade of his balcony, a man watched the scene, impassive. He had witnessed the arrival of the youngest one in a hurry, then the very fine arrival of his property. He was now waiting to see what would happen next. A fine smile appeared on his face when he saw the way Grimmjow grabbed the chin of his latest acquisition. A smile that quickly disappeared as he watched the episode unfold.

\

Suddenly, the fugitive feulled and jumped at the throat of the Westerner in a burst of desperation, wrapping his arms around his neck. Grimmjow, who had let down his guard, stood still for a few seconds before pulling himself together and letting his training take over. He bent down, trying to dislodge the young man clinging firmly to his nape and determined to deprive him of oxygen by any means possible. Their furious struggle slowly but surely led them to the pond.The raging orange man knew that he wouldn't last much longer, especially against a man the size of Grimmjow. With a quick glance, he noticed that the pool was getting closer and closer, the water reflecting the sun's rays, and he smiled deviously. Gathering what little strength the drug had left him, he leaned on the massive bluish back and projected it into the clear river, recovering somehow on his own two legs. The American fell backwards in an outraged exclamation before plunging into immense splashes of water. Meanwhile, the fugitive had not waited to admire his work and had already started running again, in a much more chaotic manner.

  
Grimmjow resurfaced, spitting, and hoisted himself out of the pool, his hair falling back over his eyes, dripping. He straightened up and his angry gaze fell on the back of the person responsible for his forced dive. With a single motion, he smoothed his locks back and his gaze became dangerous. Suddenly, he picked himself up in a raging flare and threw himself at full speed.

\

Aizen, for his part, relished the spectacle, admiring his splendid panther which swallowed the distance separating it from its prey with a powerful and graceful stride. It was really one of those days when everything starts well, he thought with delight before plunging back into the contemplation of his right-hand man in full action.

\

Grimmjow had almost caught up with the ginger when it tripped, collapsing to the ground. Distrustful, the memory of his involuntary swim still burning in his mind, the American joined his prey with velvet footsteps. As he got closer, the young man's irregular and desperate breathing became more distinct to his attentive ears. Grimmjow, still wet, growled, unsympathetic, and turned him over unceremoniously, resulting in a plaintive whimper.  
  
The dilation of his pupils had become even more pronounced, reducing his irises to mere gleaming rings around the edges, and his open mouth, rimmed by his pink lips, let out his burning breath in a bumpy gasp.  
  
The American froze and, in an irrepressible envy, reached out his hand, touching a velvety cheekbone before following the curve of a scarlet and burning cheek. The pulp of his fingers described the arc of a nervous jaw before falling into the hollow of the clavicle, while their owner protested and squirmed to escape the inquisitive caresses inflicted by the azure.

\

On the balcony, Aizen frowned, and a stormy shadow appeared in his gaze. A call from the entrance to his office barely averted his eyes:  


\- "Lord Aizen-Sama? We have lost track of the fugitive, but all exits from the palace are being guarded. He won't get far. »

  
The brunette nodded his head and the messenger closed the door, leaving his lord to concentrate on the spectacle that was taking place two floors below.

\

Aiming his blurry sight at his opponent, the young man swung his blow and sent his leg towards the bluish temple. Distractedly intercepting the ankle flying towards him, Grimmjow, fascinated, carried on his exploration, wandering through the bright orange and silky locks while immobilizing his prey.

It was the involuntary moaning that the redhead was unable to repress when he brushed against his ear that awakened the Westerner, causing him to let go of the ankle he was still holding. Jaggerjack snortled, sending a multitude of crystalline droplets waltzing around and, taken aback, tried to understand what had happened to him.

\

  
Now quite upset, Aizen had been watching the whole scene, and knew exactly what had just happened. He turned away, and, taking a last look below, saw Grimmjow get up, the fainted body of his last purchase in his arms. He came out of the office and murmured in a dangerous breath, as dry as the Harmattan itself:

  
\- "Indeed, he won't get far." He then headed for the quarters of his security chief and incidentally personal toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Harmattan is, in the Sahara and Central Africa, a north-east wind, very hot during the day, colder at night, very dry and most often dusty. Travelling long distances across desert expanses, this dry wind is progressively loaded with fine particles of sand and dust that are overheated during the day. When its intensity is at its highest, "sand winds" are created, the strongest of which can limit visibility to just a few meters. This desert wind is very feared by the locals. When the Harmattan blows, the rain inhibition that accompanies it is absolute.
> 
> Thank you for your reading, see you soon for chapter 4...
> 
> Felicia


	4. Chergui or Allemande of a couple in precarious calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his paws, in the form of a small orange tawny, Grimmjow Jaggerjack suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For his part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let his kitten run away. (English translation of my french Bleach Fanfiction)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, here comes the fourth chapter of the story.
> 
> Enjoy reading...

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 4 : Chergui or Allemande of a couple in precarious calm

_"The **allemande** is a couple dance full of mediocre gravity [...]; in dancing the allemande, young men sometimes steal the damsels, taking them from the hands of those who lead them, and the one who is robbed works to get another one," (1589), Thoinot Arbeau._

_\_

\- Oï! Jaggerjack ! Hey ! Hello, Earth to Grimmjow ! JAGGERJACK ?! Raah, may the Chergui take you! »

Noitra sighed, five minutes he was running after the bluish one, apostrophing him in every possible way, with no results. His Nemesis was a few dozen meters ahead of him and was obviously heading towards the training rooms, presumably deaf to any outside signal. Reflecting for a few seconds, he stopped, making his mental list of the big Westerner's weaknesses, looking for an idea that might lead him to his goal. Suddenly a particularly devious suggestion titillated his mind. Of course, this plan would not take place without sacrifice, but any port in a storm, one had to get involved to achieve one's goal.

He sighed again, regretting beforehand what he was going to say, but he really only had the great means left... He breathed deeply, resigned :

\- "Grimmjow, my beloved! O my beloved, you are the only one who matters to me! Grimmy of love, have a baby with me! "he shouted at the top of his voice, shutting his eyes very tightly, praying that no one else would hear his declaration, as syrupy as it ever could have been.

The effect was immediate, the imposing body of the security chief was traversed by an immense shiver and he instantly twisted his head, looking horrified, without however, stopping walking, which prevented him from avoiding the edge of the fountain that stood in the middle of the courtyard, thus causing him to take his second bath of the day. He fell headfirst, with an atrocious sense of déjà vu, in a desperate exclamation.

Noitra, on the other hand, watched the scene, gawking, his eyes wide open. A giant smile appeared on his face, he didn't dare to believe it! The result exceeded all his expectations! It was one of the most beautiful days of his life!Taking advantage of the American soaking, he quickly performed a victory dance.

Radiant, he cautiously approached the pool, struggling not to jump for joy and jumped when a soup-soaked Grimmjow burst in sputtering. At first wary, anticipating the devastating reaction that would soon follow, Noitra soon tried with all his might to hold back the laughter that tickled his nostrils, indeed, the fiercely proud American looked in every way like a kitten all disheveled, having just fallen into a puddle.

Coming out of the fountain, the azure one snuck out, sprinkling Noitra as he passed by and pulled his wicks back, sulking in his beard.

A movement of the dark-haired man brought him back to his memory and he locked his shadowy gaze on the person responsible for his dive.

\- Tch ! What do you want from me beanpole ? What was that horrible statement ?

  
\- Was it ? Nah, you must have misheard," Noitra eluded, "more importantly, Aizen-sama wants to see you.

  
The bluish one froze, forgetting his grievances.

\- Why is that ?

\- About the charming little prey you brought back this morning, I still don't know why it was you who bumped into it, by the way," Noitra creaked.

\- All right, tell him I' m on my way, I just have to go change," replied the American, pointing to his initially white, flowing outfit.

\- Ah, that's tricky. He said immediately, you know as well as I do that he hates waiting," smiled the dark-haired man, "I'm afraid you'll have to go this way. »

  
The Westerner growled, casting a defiant glance at his counterpart, who returned a cheerful and mocking smile:

  
\- Don't worry, I'm sure he'll enjoy your little dive as much or even more than I do, but maybe not for the same reasons ..., he said, while giving an unequivocal look at the torso of his Nemesis.

The head of security was on him in a split second, a hand closed on his throat, a warning light dancing in the heart of his darkened pupils, painted in the colors of the ocean.

  
\- Watch what you're implying," whispered the feline man, "I might think you're looking for trouble.

\- Far be it from me," swallowed Noitra, "I'm not that kind of person...

The American smiled with a carnivorous grin, discovering much sharper than normal canines:

\- I don't doubt it, but if you ever change your mind, I'll be happy to remind you of the result of our last fight," he hissed as he released his grip.

\- No need," Noitra sputtered, "I have a very good memory. A word of advice, don't make him wait any longer, I wouldn't want to see him upset. »

Grimmjow regained his composure and nodded his head, before walking away in his still-soaked clothes, not without one last murderous look. Noitra looked at him, both relieved and sorry, for he wished no one, not even Grimmjow, to fall into the hands of his lord when he was displeased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Morocco, the Chergui is a warm wind coming from the Sahara. In practice, it comes from the East, passes over the Atlas Mountains and comes down completely dry on the coastal plains, it is one of the many names of the Sirocco...
> 
> Do not hesitate to leave me your opinion via a comment, it would make me very happy.
> 
> See you soon,
> 
> Felicia


	5. Samiel or Sarabanda of a struggle for dominance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his paws, in the form of a small orange tawny, Grimmjow Jaggerjack suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For his part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let his kitten run away. (English translation of my french Bleach Fanfiction)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off to Chapter 5! 
> 
> Enjoy ;)

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 5 : Samiel or Sarabanda of a struggle for dominance

_ "The **sarabanda** is so lascivious in its lyrics, so shameless in its movements that it is enough to ignite even the most honest people", Juan de Mariana, Tratado contra los juegos publicos, 1609. _

\

Grimmjow knocked at the door, trying to disregard the translucency of his clothes. A muffled voice allowed him to enter the office.

There he found his lord and master in the middle of a conversation with a man whose eyes were too green for his face, as pale as his hair was dark. The pair turned to the newcomer, and time froze for a brief moment in a deafening silence before resuming its course.

Ulquiorra, for that was his name, raised an eyebrow, the equivalent of a mocking burst of laughter for him, stood up and bowed before Aizen as he walked through the door with a last respectful greeting for his lord and a last indecipherable look for the bluish one who seemed to be paralyzed.

For different reasons, neither of the other two occupants of the room paid any attention to this departure.

The first had frozen near the entrance, his massive body covered with shivers for which his wet clothes were not responsible. Despite his stature, he looked like prey in the claws of a predator, and only his gaze showed an inner struggle, shimmering with defiance, a discreet spark of fear in the depths of his eyes.

The latter's smile widened as he saw the reactions he had elicited and, out of sheer pleasure, mentally replayed the scene that had just taken place.

  
\

His handsome feline had crossed the threshold in a more than enjoyable outfit, then everything had become blurred. The look of his head of security had instantly overwhelmed all control, letting his instincts come to the fore. The release of his aura lasted only a fraction of a second, only a quarter leaking out, but it was more than enough to frighten Ulquiorra away. As for his property, it had been close enough to this part of him to place himself instinctively in a position of submission, trembling, letting out his terror and nervousness.

\

However, his spirit of defiance attracted him to the highest degree, and smiling voraciously, he let his gaze drift over the trembling body facing him.

\- "To what do I owe this honor?" he purred.

Grimmjow replied with an unintelligible groan without making a single move.

\- "Hm? Did you say something? I didn't hear anything," Aizen susurred, while feasting on the sight of the translucent cloth that marveled at the forms of the Westerner.

  
\- Fountain accident," muttered the smaller one, his eyes lowered, not noticing that the brunette had risen.

He was startled when his head was forcefully raised, two chocolate irises probing his every expression.

\- "How funny, you who love water so much," Aizen whispered thoughtfully, "you may have noticed that we liked it... a lot... "

The smile of the tallest became fierce and Grimmjow held back a squeak when a hand grazed one of his nipples, which could be seen through his tunic.

\- "But tell me, how did you found my latest acquisition? A little wild but very promising, did you like it?

\- It is very, ah! Very compelling, ngh ... He made me, aah! He made me run," gasped the blue-haired one.

  
\- Oh? As sensitive as ever, my beautiful, appreciated the dark brown-haired man.

  
\- Leave it, ah! Let me-aaaah, wheezed the azure. I'm not, um! I'm not a toy! I, hmfff!!"

The mouth of the brunette nested near the ear of the youngest, his hand effectively gagging him:

\- "Ssh.... calm down...I knew you'd like him...he's perfectly your type...," Aizen whispered, his free hand still torturing the nipples of his property, "I've rarely seen you so ...motivated...maybe never even in fact..."

Grimmjow groaned between the phalanges that prevented him from speaking and, by instinct, snapped his fang. His jaw slammed within a hair's breadth of the hand of the taller man, who frowned his eyebrows and slammed his lieutenant against a wall, purposefully placing his palm back on his lips.

  
\- I had made it clear that it was forbidden to bite, you should remember that... I stopped counting how many times I made you repeat it," Aizen said softly. You naughty girl...You wouldn't want me to put your muzzle back on, would you?

The American's gaze was tinged with panic and he shook his head frantically, begging :

\- Mmmh! Ngh! Nfuhu!

  
\- I would almost hesitate if you make such sounds, angel. It looked so good on you...You were beautiful, with your jaw spread open by the leather, moaning and submissive," Aizen dreamily remembered as he removed his hand.

  
\- You... you promised ! Ah...ah...you promised me!" protested the azure one, out of breath.

  
\- Um, yes, I know," sighed the older man, "I remember exactly what's written in the contract. »

His voice became deeper and he murmured in a hoarse tone:

\- I also know perfectly well what is not in it...

The brunette turned around, walked to his desk, and waltzed everything on top of it with a wide movement. Then he pulled an armchair in front of the piece of furniture, which was now rid of its contents, and dropped himself into it.

Grimmjow stood up cautiously and stared at it indecisively. The sentence fell like a blade:

\- "Down! »

  
The tattoed man jumped and then realized what he had just heard. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again, resolute. Aizen gently repeated himself, separating each syllable, without result. 

Finally, he sighed and stood up. The Westerner wanted to move back, but his back quickly hit the wall, cornering him. The dark-haired man began to speak as he got closer to the smaller one:

\- No restraints," he said, taking a step. No seclusion," he continued, taking a second step. No alterations.

He reached the level of Grimmjow:

\- No penetration, he concluded, plunging his determined gaze into the dilated pupils of the azure. I know perfectly well the terms of the contract, these are your rules," he whispered, caressing the trembling jaw of the smaller one, "so now, for heaven's sake, _obey me_!

  
The end of the sentence clicked as hard as a slap, and the tanned man began to move automatically. He soon found himself with his back flat on the horizontal wooden surface, his legs sticking out into the air.

The silence, only disturbed by Grimmjow's rapid breathing, was soon broken by the following order:

  
\- Undress," the dark-haired man purred, looking attentively.

The ultramarine breath had a miss, but he obeyed. 

Aizen embraced the scene with his gaze, contemplating his property, and by the burning breath of Samiel, what a property! :

Only dressed in dark boxer shorts, lying on the desk and leaning on his elbows, his abdomen went up and down with his restless breathing. His body, all muscles, nerves and tendons, had not an ounce of fat and had nothing to envy to a God of Orient.

Feeling his instincts roar, ferocious and dominating, chirping with impatience, Aizen grimaced inwardly, unable to accede to this desire. 

\- We will try another approach," he murmured to himself, before raising his voice. Has my ferocious feline become chaste? "he asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

The azure growled before making go down his last rampart of fabric along his powerful thighs, squeezing his legs immediately afterwards, his glance resolutely fixed on a detail of the tapestry.

\- No, no, my beautiful, it is not like how you have been trained", rectified the dark-haired man in a professorial tone, slightly releasing his aura. Grimmjow held himself in extremis to turn his head and to expose his throat, but could not prevent his body from widely spreading his thighs, compelled by the crushing power of the older one.

Resigned, he raised his eyes and held the dominant's gaze, which was met with a spark of surprise that quickly turned to satisfaction. Wearing a smile that did not presage anything good, Aizen let gravity guide his sight, breaking contact with the azure of the bluet irises. When he realized exactly where the brunette had set his eyes, his cheeks turned crimson and his face began to heat up.

\- "Don't look, stop it," he growled, bending his legs a little.

\- I'm not doing anything forbidden by our agreement, it seems to me, I'm just admiring what is mine, retorted Aizen. But tell me, you didn't answer me, did the little fury catch your eye?

\- Why are you asking me this now? », hesitated the marine one, still scarlet.

Aizen was on top of him in a split of a second, his powerful arms framing Grimmjow's hips as he stiffened.

\- "Dare to tell me that you didn’t feel you came back to life? That the hunt hasn't transcended your being and your instincts? That chasing him after he had humiliated you, and finally seized him, was not… enjoyable? The lord whispered in a deep, sweet voice, instilling his aura into each of his words.

With each new sentence that Aizen gave him, the American gasped more and more, his eyes wide open, unable to resist.

\- When you had him in your claws, believe me, I know exactly what you felt, lost in the excitement of the hunt, my beautiful tracker," he finished him off by releasing a good tenth of his power.

The blue one made a long moan, hazy eyes, while Aizen contemplated his erect nipples with a satisfied smile.

He put his hands on the knees of his toy and spread his thighs completely apart, so as to clearly expose the erection that his speech had triggered. As soon as he touched his chest, he got a whimpering cry as a reward.   
  
A few minutes of this treatment reduced Grimmjow to a moaning mass, dominated by the power of his lord.

\- Look at you, you're already so hard," mocked Aizen.

The azure directed his misty gaze between his own thighs, lost in the nimbus of pleasure, and advised his erect sex, immediately regaining contact with reality.

\- Aaaah, nooo! Han...no-o! "moaned the American, mortified, struggling.

For only answer, the dark-haired man intensified his gentle torture and pinched both his nipples simultaneously, causing the tanned man's erection to twitch, which could not hold back a high-pitched scream, making him flushed again.

\- Stop squirming, you're going to hurt yourself. I've already told you that I won't break the terms of the contract. If you're already in this state it's for a good reason, what I've done to you is not enough without real interest on your part," sighed the elder, running his fingers through the silky strands of ultramarine blue.

  
\- It's not true! It's that smell...I...I can't do it, I don't...don't want to," articulated the younger one, jaw tight, begging.

  
\- Accept it! You don't have a choice. You are above all a primal being, with instincts to satisfy.You're a beast, Grimmjow,"claimed Aizen, tightening his grip on sapphire hair to bring their two faces closer together. 

  
The tattoed one denying fiercely, his expression darkened and he spat:

\- It's your nature, you can't reject it forever! She is a part of you, just as you're a part of her. And because of this, you are an animal before being a man, my ferocious lieutenant! »

He relaxed his grip and walked around the desk, stopping at the level of the half-open thighs of the azure one, whomst closed them immediately, fierce. Aizen sighed, weary, and wondered how much longer this little game was going to last. Things were going much slower than expected. His powerful tracker was not supposed to be able to resist him that much.

Very well, since it was like that, awakening some good old memories would not be a luxury. He viciously played with his aura, nailing his trophy to the desk and watched his legs open up on their own, even wider than before, in a desperate sob of their owner. 

Satisfied, the brunette crouched at the height of the exposed inseam, observing the impatient erection, then turned his attention to a detail on the inner thighs, which made the ultramarine man shudder:

\- No! Don't touch it! Anything but that! "he panicked.

Aizen, smiling indulgently, touched the delicate velvet skin without hesitation, getting a complaint of pathetic despair in return.

Getting up, the palm now leaning on this so particular point, the noble savored the impact of his gesture: the Westerner, looking forlorn, was languid in all its splendor, as lascivious as a feline. He emitted a sound that sounded very much like a supplicant meow, but his Lord remained motionless, raising only an inquisitive eyebrow. 

Grimmjow chirped in annoyance, then tilted his head, revealing his throat and drawing an approving glance from the older man:

\- Good girl," he smiled, revealing his canines as the same plaintive sound crossed the azure's lips. It had been a while... Did you want something?

The unequivocal hip motion that answered him made him gloat. Moving his arm forward, he wrapped his long fingers around the straining sex, reaping a sigh of contentment, which turned into an indignant meow when he didn't hint even a shadow of a movement.

\- You've upset me and you know it, so this time you're going to have to fend for yourself," he explained, mocking.

The younger one began to protest by hissing, taking out his fangs, but a strong hand pressure was enough for Aizen to control him :

\- Come on, calm down...Schh...Always so impulsive, eh? You're really the same, you're as bad as each other," he muttered frowning, before being distracted by the characteristic noise of someone knocking at the door. "Later! " exclaimed the lord in exasperation, before turning back to his prey.

At the sight of him, he raised his eyebrows, surprised : 

\- Leave her alone," Grimmjow articulated with difficulty, his eyes planted in those of the brown-haired man, " do not touch her. I'm not your toy, and neither is she, so stop immediately. »

The tallest whistled, impressed :

\- "I underestimated you, it seems. Unfortunately, it was useless, admirable of course, but completely useless. You know as well as I do what her status is, don't you? Let me take care of her.

  
\- I don't want you to touch her! She does not belong to you!

  
\- But so indeed, according to our laws, she is my strict property, and there is nothing you can do about it, except accept it," cooed the brunette, before moving closer to the blue one tense face.

  
\- No...

  
\- She as well as you, by the way, you are entirely mine! You belong to me body and soul. And despite what you may think, I know how to take care of her," whispered the taller one before backing away. 

Grimmjow gritted his teeth while blasting the eldest with his eyes.

The dark-haired man smiled and turned around, returning to his seat. With his legs crossed and his hands resting on the armrests of his chair, he sighed.

\- Now, I offer you a choice: Either you are being very good and compliant and you let me do it, for the sake of you both, I promise to be gentle, which is rather unusual for me, you know that very well...

  
\- Or ?" grimaced the tanned man, still lying on the desk, wheezing.

  
\- You leave this room, assuming the harm you inflict to her by this gesture, with, of course, prohibition to relieve yourself, said his lord.

  
\- Is that all?

  
\- Hm, you do know me well, sweetheart! Of course not, that won't be all. You already know in what state our little protégé must be as we are talking right now, don't you? After all, you've experienced the said substance quite often enough," purred Aizen.

  
\- Tss, what do you want from me," growled the azure, standing upright, hiding his nudity behind his curled legs, under the disappointed gaze of his employer.

  
\- Oh, it's just an exchange of good manners, you're going to take care of the little fury for me and I'll leave you alone for a while. »

Grimmjow raised his head briskly:

\- Do you want me to take care of his training?! He's just a lost and desperate kid! I'm not like you, I refuse to put him through that!

  
\- Would you prefer that I entrust him to Noitra? Or that I take care of him, maybe?

\- No!

  
\- Then make your choice. You can also let me take care of her...

  
\- No way! 

  
\- Well, the little redhead then.

  
\- I don't get off on making someone suffer, I'm not a sadist! You leave me no choice!

  
\- Oh wrong, we always have a choice, angel," hummed the brunette as he got up.

  
\- Don't call me that," spat out Grimmjow as he backed away on the desk, as far as he could.

  
\- I'll name my property as I wish," reprimanded his lord dryly, his two hands slamming on the wood. And now this is enough! I have been merciful more than once. I let you interrupt me and take this extremely familiar tone with me, until now, without sanction. Choose!

\- I can't ...Hyah!" yelped the lieutenant when Aizen, in a fit of irritation, wrapped his long fingers around his erection. Nyaaah, ah, stop!

  
\- You're in no position to give me orders. You will never be," thundered the lord while moving his hand. Now, choose, or I'll choose for you, and believe me, you're not going to like it!

Powerless, the azure lowered his head ragingly and yielded:

\- I will take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In North Africa, the Samiel is an extremely suffocating wind, inevitably accompanied by violent gusts of sand. It is the twin of the Simoon.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the content of the chapter . Leave a small comment if you liked it ;)
> 
> See you soon !
> 
> Felicia


	6. Simoon or Gavotte of past reminiscences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his paws, in the form of a small orange tawny, Grimmjow Jaggerjack suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For his part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let his kitten run away. (English translation of my french Bleach Fanfiction)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this sixth chapter,
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 6 : Simoon or Gavotte of past reminiscences

_ Describing American foreign policy in the wake of the September 11 attacks, author Norman Podhoretz says, "Far from 'rushing into war,' we were spending months dancing a diplomatic **gavotte** in the vain hope of enlisting the help of France, Germany, and Russia."(2001) _

\

The palace of Lord Aizen had been built by his ancestors and had withstood countless assaults and sieges over the ages. His Guard, originally composed of an ancient order of assassins and mercenaries, was trained according to the ancestral practices handed down since the creation of the dynasty. As a result, of reckless armies that had ventured too close to the citadel walls, few remains were found, except the bloodstained shadow of the massacres that had occurred. The building had earned the name of " Las Sombras " and its reputation was well established. Nevertheless, the citadel was not only named after the souls it had reaped at the base of its walls. Indeed, the palace was reaching the depths of the desert, which many people didn't know, sheltering underground lakes and splendid galleries made of carved rock.

Sosuke Aizen's ancestors had successfully passed on their major character traits to him, and it was quite evident that they were all of the same calibre. A family such as the Aizen's had therefore inevitably made many enemies in the course of its development. By the time, for sheer technical reasons, it was necessary to find a place to relegate the assassins and other fallen mercenaries who tended to accumulate after their arrest and take up a little too much space.

The lord of that era, Ryusuke Aizen, finally snapped the day his close guard simultaneously arrested 99 assassins, sent jointly by the Fon and the Kurotsushi. He then proceeded to excavate numerous cells in the entrails of the palace, while enriching the brand new architecture of weapons rooms, barracks, reserves and other hijacked passages.

These obscure dungeons welcomed many opponents in the name of the Aizen, and few of them ever saw the light of day again. Clearly, Las Sombras was imbued with the darkness that had marred the history of its occupants ...

Although underground, the cells were relatively clean and the air was tepid, the humidity was regulated by an ingenious ventilation system. Recently times had been peaceful and they were, therefore, mostly empty. However, a new occupant had recently arrived.

\

The red-haired young man was curled up on himself, lying on a blanket, his arms wrapped around his shaky legs. His condition had not improved since this bluish-haired, shameless man had brought him back to the harem quarters. He had then been transferred to this cell on the orders of the tall dark-haired man who had run after him, and who seemed to be in a very gloomy mood.

But this person was far from being his biggest worry at the moment. He could not control his erratic breathing and every time he exhaled, his throat burned. With his eyelids tightly closed and his lips pursed, he was desperately trying not to let any sound out. But, despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop his body from twisting between the sheets. When the bulge that deformed his pants accidentally rubbed against the mattress, he made a long, high-pitched moan, tightening his eyelids even more. How did he get there?

He took a deep breath, trying to go back in his memories, and at the same time, away from the body that so shamefully betrayed him.

\

Since he was a child, he had always known only the immensity of the desert, the glowing dawn on the dunes, the warm breath of the Simoon on his skin, carrying a dust so fine, red as blood, which covered him from head to toe like a stole of mineral fire if he did not find refuge soon enough.

Then the journey with the caravan of slavers, through the territories of the nomadic tribes, tiredness, fear, moving forward, always pushing one's foot into the burning sand and starting over again. Sleep, his only peaceful time, closing his eyes and caressing the faces of his loved ones with the digits of his dreams. Then leave again, thirst in the hollow of his stomach, his cheeks dry from the tears he had already cried too many times.

And finally, the oasis, at first a splash of green in the background, lost in the middle of an ocean of excruciatingly fiery orange sand. Then, a city, whose arachnean towers were dashing towards the sky, trees, immense and green, water, clear, pure, vital, paradise on Earth.

They had passed through one of the high gates that gave access to the city, marching in single file under the indifferent gaze of the guards. The red-headed boy, however, had raised his head and thought he detected a spark of pity in the gaze of one of the youngest soldiers, a crystal of pure will floating in the placid tumult of a disillusioned iris, a spark that had clutched his throat before lowering his eyes sharply, violently rebuffed by one of the merchants.

Their jailers had dragged him and his companions of misery through the alleys of the city, until finally reaching a huge building of light marble veined with gray. They had passed through a discreet entrance at the back, stumbling upon a strange man with silver hair who smiled like a maniac. The man had talked with the slave traders, judging each merchandise with a critical eye, lifting their chin with his long thin fingers before making them open their mouths and check their teeth as one would have done for a vulgar camel.

Once the investor was satisfied with the exchange, the lot was dragged to the damp basement and parked in a large wrought-iron cage. Some were crying, others had walled themselves in proud silence, while the last had preferred to snuggle up against each other to escape into a dreamless sleep, as heavy as an icy blanket of lead.

Time had passed, one or two days at the most, it was difficult to assess the hours that had passed in the dungeons, whose use, with the patina of passage and years, left no doubt.

One evening, men had opened their cages and pulled them out of their meagre shelter one by one. They were then washed, dressed and decorated. Then, as they went along, well-armed men took them, in chains, to a lit stage.

\

When it was his turn, he was pushed without warning to the front of the stage.

The violent flashes of light from the spotlights pointed at him dazzled him for a moment, preventing him from discerning the faces of the audience as they flourished in the shadows of the auction hall.

He was forced to move closer to the stage and raise his head.

A whisper soon rose in the muffled penumbra. The gaze of the bidders and other agents became sharper and courteous exchanges became rarer. The next sale looked promising and although the mines were serious, appreciative smiles appeared here and there.

Very quickly, the attention of the entire room was focused on the young man revealed by the numerous lights.Dressed solely in simple white linen pants that revealed his golden skin so characteristic of outdoor life, his unclothed body possessed a refined and racy musculature. To spoil nothing, his face with furrowed eyebrows showed delicate and regular features, the tan of his complexion highlighting his chocolate eyes mixed with melted toffee. The summit was, without a doubt, his hair in shades of the setting sun, which intensely sublimated this being made of shades of warm ochre and Sienese earth.

The auctioneer held back a cheerful smile, after all, years of experience had taught him to grasp the atmosphere of a sale and especially the amounts it could reach. This time the battle would prove to be extremely profitable.

\- My, my, greetings and good evening to you all, we've got a prime selection for you tonight! As you could admire it, it is a male of about twenty years of age and of remarkable quality!"

\

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In North Africa, the Simoon is a hot, dry and violent wind that blows on the eastern coasts of the Mediterranean Sea: Palestine, Syria, the Sahara and the Arabian desert.
> 
> Thank you for your fidelity! 
> 
> See you soon,
> 
> Felicia


	7. Sirocco or Frenzied Polka for a naked ginger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his lap, in the form of a small orange beast, Grimmjow Jaggerjack suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For his part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let his kitten run away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 7!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :D
> 
> I wish you a good and pleasant reading.

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 7: Sirocco or Frenzied Polka for a naked ginger

_Danse-La-Nuit, you see, that doesn't mean that he dances at night, ablative, that would be too stupid! He dances the night, well, as they say he dances the **polka** , accusatively. (The Moon in search of herself), Paul Claudel_

\

\- ...A male in his twenties of a remarkable quality! »

The young man gritted his teeth. Auction ? Seriously ? He clenched his jaws even tighter. He was not an animal. He wasn't for sale! They weren't really counting on the fact that he was going to let himself be treated like a piece of meat anyway, were they?!

\

\- ...A male in his twenties of a remarkable quality! »

A sleepy eye opened, pointing a cold iris at the stage, in a singular ophidian mimicry. Previous lots had been very disappointing, and since a few sales he hadn't even bothered to keep his eyes open, preferring to drowse.

But from the hubbub of the public and the appreciative murmurings of the nobles occupying the private boxes, the present specimen seemed a minimum promising. For the time being, the evening had proved extremely dull, and the only reason he was still in the Loggia Estravaganzza, the most luxurious lodge in the auction house, was his owner, the no less luxurious Lord Urahara.

This rich eccentric, nonchalantly seated on a green corduroy bench, was commenting the sale using his sharp tongue, dissimulated behind his blond locks. He was one of the few people that Aizen tolerated at his side, appreciating his uninhibited verve and his tempered steel character, respecting the frightening intelligence that was hidden behind the cavalier attitude of this lunatic being.

The aforementioned had also raised his head, revealing his eyes, usually shaded by his golden fringe, methodically observing the scene. After all, the lost looking young man who found himself exposed to the eyes of the entire room was a true beauty.

\

In addition to having such a rare shade of hair on this side of the hemisphere, he possessed a fine, hairless body that perfectly met the standards of connoisseurs.

\- Look at this little stray lamb," Urahara cooed, "it has a little something that attracts the eye inexorably.

Aizen turned his head towards the blond man who smiled joyfully.

  
\- Ah, I've found it! That candid and naive look, look at him! It almost makes me want to tear it off, don't you? "the owner of the place purred.

The brunette opened his other eye and straightened up completely, stretching out his long muscular figure, studying in his turn the young man with the flaming locks, while his partner's smile slyly grew larger. Then he stepped back and weighed his answer:

\- His body and his face are made for lust, they will not get enough of him, that's for sure. This little pure white goose tune will delight the most sadistic people for sure, won't it, my dear Kisuke? ».

The blond winked at him, not at all offended by the insinuation. The tallest resumed:

\- However, he's far too docile, he hasn't made a single protest since he was brought in. In a word, boring, no challenge, it promises a quick and not very entertaining training.

\- You are too difficult, Sosuke! Look at those big, dazzling eyes, just waiting to be adorned with tears. Oh, pain and pleasure will fit him so well! He's so adorable!

\- And you're too kind, Kisuke. Training is the most important step, the longer it lasts, the better the final result will be. I have a kitten whose training took me two years. Two whole years. He has been giving me full satisfaction since then.

The golden blond man smiled thoughtfully before resting his mischievous look on their stray diamond of innocence :

\- I don't have the same ambitions, nor the same patience, but you must have had a lot of fun.

\- You have no idea...

\- Invite me the next time you feel like it... "

The two men had the same carnivorous grin, the one that characterizes so well the great predators, standing with a knowing look on their faces.

\- In any case, this little gem isn't wild enough for me, it's undeniable," Aizen concluded, closing his eyes and snuggling comfortably.

No sooner had the brunette finished his sentence than the blonde widened his eyes, before starting to pull vigorously on the sleeve of the priceless suit of his opposite. Annoyed, he straightened up and, following the gaze of his partner, fell on the bewildering spectacle that was taking place on stage.

\

The " obedient little lamb " was surrounded by three men from the security service, while two others were already lying on the ground holding their stomachs. One of the guards charged the shackled young man, who ducked him with a jump to the side, swung and pulled on his chains, sending his assailant to the ground before finishing him off with a heel to the temple.

The little fury retreated and hissed toward the remaining guards. Amidst the shocked exclamations of the public, one could distinguish a few giggles of laughter and some approving murmurs. The two remaining men looked at each other before attacking in the same momentum.

The first grabbed the chains, preventing the red-headed man from moving, while the second took out of his pocket a shiny black case. Urahara raised an eyebrow:

\- Taser, huh? It's going to be more complicated now, little lamb", while on stage, the concerned one wrinkled his nose as he discovered his canines. "Oh, a genuine little tiger, you could almost hear it yowling, couldn't you? ", continued the blond man, while turning towards Aizen.

His babbling stopped as soon as he noticed the expression of the brunette:

His gaze sharp and concentrated on the show, he grinned fiercely, his chin resting on his intersecting hands.

The billionaire tilted his head, reflectively, before sighing. He raised his hands as a sign of surrender before approaching the one he could be proud to call his friend.

\- Pff, I know that look well, you're more versatile than a weather vane, Sosuke! I'll leave it to you this time. »

Aizen nodded slowly, looking absent, before letting go of the scene to stare at the blondie.

\- Are you sure you want to give him up so easily? I thought you were a better negotiator.

\- Believe me, I'm saving us both money.

\- Oh, I'm sure you do, but it would have been interesting to see how far you would have been willing to go.

\- You know very well, as I know you wouldn't give in, I just had to see your eyes. Is he wild enough for you now?

\- Hmm, it's already much better but he's holding back. I'm waiting to see what happens next. I'm sure he can do better. "the dark-haired one purred.

Urahara shook his head, looking resigned, before shifting his attention to the center of the room.

The taser guard had moved closer to his target and was jerking the box, illuminating the object with crackling electric arcs. The ginger was gauging his assailant with his eyes as he pulled on his restraints, fighting the second man. Suddenly, the first man lunged forward, the taser shooting straight at the bare torso of the young redhead, who reacted so sharply that the action became fuzzy, grabbing the attacker's wrist before tilting his center of gravity, making the best use of his reduced range of motion.

Taking advantage of the kinetic energy deployed by the speed of the guard he had neutralized in a painful arm lock, he pivoted and sent him to hit his sidekick. With their momentum, they swept off the stage, falling among the buyers, who scattered like a flock of sparrows, shouting outraged exclamations.

Urahara whistled in admiration and mockery as Aizen devoured the scene with his eyes. What a turnaround! He, who had been mortally bored just a few minutes earlier, was overjoyed. This seemingly docile little beast was a challenge he could only take up. Excited, he flicked his tongue to his lips, unconsciously loosening his control over his aura in an almost infinitesimal way.

At his side, the blond man shuddered, while at the four corners of the room two good thirds of the crowd turned towards the Loggia, looking worried. The auctioneer, who until then had been passively watching the events from the wings, sighed, shaking his metalic highlights. You really had to do everything yourself!

At the same moment, the redhead, still on stage, frowned before turning his eyes to the balcony of the main dressing room, looking intrigued. As he tried to discern the features of the silhouettes hidden in the darkness, the man with silver hair slipped behind him, displaying an unhealthy smile.

\- My, my, what have we here? "he whispered in the ear of the young rebel who jumped and tried to get away.

Immediately, the man smiling like a fox immobilized both arms behind his back and came to stick to his back, using his free hand to expose his face by firmly grasping his jaw.

\- Ladies and gentlemen, I think you have had ample time to notice the fiery character and impressive vitality of our beauty of the evening! I hope its future owner will make good use of it! What if we were to start again? "smiled the albino, while new guards were busy further hindering the struggling young man, to the applause of the audience.

Urahara sat back at his bench, grabbing a glass of sparkling wine from a small crystal table.

\- Ichimaru is still as effective as ever," he commented as he brought the glass closer to his lips, "for a little, it would almost be frightening! »

Aizen nodded, absent, staring at the redhead who was struggling with a dark metal collar, bound to the ground with heavy iron links, and a black leather corset, which an underling finished lacing around his arms held behind his back.

Ichimaru Gin approached the captive, who was still fidgeting despite the straitjacket that immobilized his upper limbs, forced to kneel because of his thick collar. With his perpetual smile on his lips, he resumed:

\- Although highly entertaining, this unexpected event generated a slight setback. So I'll make it short. Our lot tonight is a young, healthy male. He has a certain temperament, perhaps some of you may have noticed, as lively and fiery as the Sirocco that blows over our beloved lands! »

The room was filled with light laughter and other nasty comments, while the first concerned looked angrily at the albino, snarling.

\- This is a very high quality property. Ah, small detail, and not the least, it seems to be virgin on both sides, we will leave it to its future purchaser to check more in ... depth, if you forgive the expression, and of course, to initiate it if the need arises. "the fox-man whispered, getting appreciative murmurs from the gentlemen and blushes from the ladies.

Urahara burst out laughing:

  
\- Only this man can say such things and still be so classy! »

\- Well, ladies and gentlemen, I announce the open bidding! The bid is $50,000! »

It was a rush. Half of the room held up its sign, raising the stakes at breakneck speed.

Puppeteer of this sinister madness, conductor of this vice brought to its paroxysm, Gin counted, relaunched, juggled with numbers, evolving and blossoming in this hurricane of debauchery, yet remaining serene, immaculate, untouchable, and this despite the darkness of the macabre ballet that he directed with a masterful hand.

Aizen, for his part, was contemplating this sordid crowd, this sinful agitation from the top of his balcony, Urahara, at his side, had leaned against the balustrade, both of them watching the world sink into mad anarchy.

Very quickly, the prices exceeded the 100,000 mark, then the 200,000 one, while about thirty potential buyers were still waging war on each other.

\- You don't go for it?

\- I let them play around a little longer, it's always rewarding to see who's capable of spending what. It's the best way to evaluate how everyone's fortunes are doing.

\- Alah alah, you will never change. Look who you're going to shatter all hopes of," Kisuke smiles, pointing to the audience with his chin.

\- They're just inferior families. The real contestants will soon come on stage," the brunette replied carelessly.

Gin's voice rose into the air:

\- "$300,000, ladies and gentlemen! Who can say better? Oh, I see we still have a lot of people interested? I willingly admit that our little gem seems to be worth the expense," he commented with a rascal wink, cheered by the audience.

The fox man had a perfidious, almost imperceptible smirk on his face and reached out his hand in the direction of the room, letting his fingers play an airy melody that he seemed to be the only one to hear. When he spoke again, his voice dropped slightly lower, muffled by the excitement. It was now that everything began, his instincts were categorical, the tempo of the sale was taking off favorably, making itself almost palpable under his palm. He took a deep breath:

\- " Very Respectable Lords, is it about time? Will you be with us tonight? Will you seize the opportunity and bid to win the object of all passions? I leave it to you," whispered the silvery one, mimicking a deep reverence of the most obsequious, his eyes narrowed to the extreme.

Sosuke Aizen unfolded his arms, laying his hands flat on the precious wood of the railing before offering a soft smile to the blond man staring at him, quivering with anticipation. He slowly exhaled, his eyes sharper than ever:

\- "The revelry can begin..."

\

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sirocco is one of the most violent of the desert winds, burning and arid, it travels along the southern coasts of the Mediterranean as well as North Africa.
> 
> See you soon for the 8th chapter of history!
> 
> (Constructive comments more than welcome)
> 
> Bye,
> 
> Felicia


	8. Khamsim or Nocturnal Farandole of Those Who Wander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his lap, in the form of a small orange beast, Grimmjow Jaggerjack suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For her part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let her kitten run away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so here we go for chapter 8.
> 
> Have fun reading it!

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 8 : Khamsim or Nocturnal Farandole of Those Who Wander

_I had caught my dear superman in the act of humanity: I felt that I loved him more. So I sang the **farandole** and started dancing in the sun. Childhood Memories, Volume 1: The Glory of my father, Marcel Pagnol._

\

Night had fallen on the desert, blanketing the hot sand dunes with a mantle of icy shadow, letting the beings who evolution had granted the right to survive in this hostile landscape resurface.

Similar to its environment, in Las Sombras, life never stopped at dusk, quite the contrary. There was a whole nocturnal fauna that emerged as soon as the last rays of sunlight wilt on the horizon. The palace was illuminated with multicolored lanterns and other oriental candelabra. The evenings and parties blossomed and withered as quickly as the ephemeral flames of the scented candles that the citadel's servants strove to perpetually rekindle.

A heady atmosphere of Saturnalia reigned in the corridors, balconies and courtyards of the citadel. In the glow of the selenite chiaroscuro, bodies danced and twirled to the sound of languorous and sybarite notes, while on the tables gleamed food and various drinks in profusion. The celebrations followed one another in an incessant revival of the Bacchanals of yesteryear, celebrating ancient pagan Gods, tinged with reflections of the East.

Far from the debauchery and depravity that reigned as the undisputed masters, the west wing of the building, dedicated to Lord Aizen, was much calmer and more peaceful. There were many rooms, free or not, reserved for the lord's relatives and guests.

\

In the semi-darkness of one of these rooms, behind a door whose dark wood was marked with a seal of phosphorescent azure, was a blurred, motionless form lying on the sheets.

The silhouette had its forearm raised to the height of its face, masking its eyes. Suddenly, it straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed, putting its feet on the ground, nesting its face in its hands. A noise echoed at that very moment, near the open window, it raised its head, revealing its irises glowing in the shadows, betraying its status as a nyctalope.

Alert, its eyes glowing with arctic fire mixed with liquid quicksilver, it growled dullly before staring at the shape that had appeared at the window and had fallen smoothly into the room. With a sigh, the male figure relaxed and reached out his hand, attracting the small, typically feline shadow that had snuck into his room.

Rubbing itself to the outstretched palm, the animal soon began to purr, before attempting to climb up the bare legs facing it. Two large hands grabbed the feline and pulled it up to a warm torso. Satisfied, the cat purred even more loudly, curling up against the smiling man's neck:

\- "Khamsim, what are you doing here?"

The animal raised its snout at the call of its name and rubbed its nose against the powerful jaw of the human, who sighed again and lay down with his burden purring in his neck, a slight smile on his lips.

Letting the course of time pass by, staring at the thousand-year-old game of hide-and-seek between the moon with its mercury reflections and the fluffy clouds across the open bay of his balcony, the man mechanically stroked the soft fur, lost in his daydreams.

At dawn, he was going to have to go down to the cells to take care of the little redheaded fury, on Aizen's orders, and he still didn't understand what had possessed him when he had captured it... Nor the fact that he had agreed to take care of its training, for that matter. Actually indeed he knew, everything rather than really pleasing Aizen, but the consequences of his pride were costing him dearly.

Angrily foraging in his sky blue hair, he disturbed the sleepy cat who called him to order by curling up more against him with a reproving meow.

Grimmjow smothered a smile before resolving to stop thinking about it, plunging back into contemplation of the dark, sibylline arabesques of the Oriental sky, his fingers mingled with the animal's silky ebony and ochre fleece.

His eyelids fluttered more and more, dragging him into the characteristic tuftiness of Morpheus' embrace. Soothed by the vibrating purr near his neck, he let himself be drawn in.

\

It was the sudden cold around his collar that awakened the man. He straightened himself up somehow, clumsily passing his hand through his strands left loose in his sleep. Looking for his small personal radiator with integrated purring option, he quickly noticed the gap in his door, just wide enough for the passage of an adventurous feline. Mumbling, he weighed the pros and cons before getting up, pestering the cat population and their incessant fidgeting.

He crossed the threshold, pleasantly surprised by the relative warmth of the ambient air and went on hunt. First he walked along the corridor on the top floor where his room nested, pierced by numerous balustraded openings, overlooking one of the palace's inner courtyards, his ear to the ground. Then he walked towards the main artery of the west wing, determined to bring the little fugitive back by the skin of his neck.

  
\  


One hour. He was wandering around for a bloo** hell of a fuck*** hour, with no results. He had walked up the whole main artery, before venturing out of the west wing, crossing the aerial footbridge that separated the private apartments of the lord from the common people, wandering to the upper floors of the central building. Never mind the heater, he would do without it. The man was turning his heels and muttering in his beard when he heard a mocking meow that made him freeze on the spot. Slowly turning around, he risked a glance, discovering the animal sitting quietly in the middle of the passageway, staring at him with big, innocent doe eyes.

\- Oï, you know that it is up to humans to walk their beasties and not the other way around! Don't give me those eyes, it doesn't work anymore! Nah, I've been immune for ages! »

The cat lowered his ears back, disappointed. What do you mean his ultimate technique was no longer working? Well, very well, since he was asking for it...

\- Give up, there's no point in exerting yourself anyw... but what are you doing? Oh no, that's unfair! Forbidden! "the human suddenly stammered.

The disloyal being in question had adopted a pitiful look, meowing to break the heart, and had begun to release distress pheromones while spreading the pupils lustily.

His opponent did not maintain eye contact for very long, giving way quickly under the feline's satisfied gaze. He swallowed his proud words and bent down in a grumbling manner to retrieve the evil little jinn better known as Cat, who immediately crawled into his powerful arms, very happy with himself.

He turned around, heading towards the lower floors to reach the main artery, while cuddling the kitty who played to put his paws on the chin of the one he considered as his favorite human.

\

The shouts of voices that came closer made him slow down, suspicious. He did not particularly enjoy the company of the men and women who prowled the citadel's lavish nocturnal celebrations, preferring the hushed solitude of his apartments.

He surveyed the surroundings, quickly realizing that he had gone too far down a branch of the main road, the only way to his room, to retreat and hide in the shadows in time. The bluet growled and continued on its way, the ball of fur still purring in his arms. The encounter seemed inevitable, so might as well face the bawling group that was about to arrive standing tall.

He didn't have to wait long. Inappropriate visitors appeared at the bend in the road, leading to the sheltered artery supported by numerous colonnades that the American was following. Still too far away for him to distinguish their faces clearly, Grimmjow grimaced as their piercing laughter reached his sensitive ears. A man and two wom...ouch! Correction, one man and three women, thus, were coming straight at him, chattering happily without the slightest concern for the surrounding peacefulness.

The azure man sighed and went back to walking. And there it was, another delay, when all he wanted was to go back to bed and sleep, if possible with his own little feline hot water bottle. All he had to do was ignore the partygoers and go straight ahead to finally be quiet.

With his mind focused on this comforting thought, he quickened his pace, without paying more than that attention to the people arriving in his direction, directing his gaze across the passageway to the lower floor.

It was a big mistake, which the man walking forward, surrounded by his noisy little courtyard, did not make.

\

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> See you soon for the 9th ;)
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Felicia


	9. Al'ajjaj or The Howling Jig of the preys fleeing for their lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years. It's been five years since he lost his right to freedom. But when the change literally falls into his paws, in the form of a small orange beastie, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques suddenly finds his chains far too short for his taste. For his part, Aizen Sosuke is far from agreeing to let his kitten run away. (English translation of my french Bleach Fanfiction)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the people who read and come back for new chapters! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the subscriptions, kudos, bookmarks, etc...
> 
> Here is chapter 9!
> 
> Enjoy reading it :)

The Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 9 : Al'ajjaj or The Howling Jig of the preys fleeing for their lives

_In all its forms, the **jig** exerts an uncommon fascination on the local population; by its virtuosity, its perfect tuning to the music, the finesse of its movements and the energy it deploys. It represents the quintessence of traditional dance. (History of tap dance)_

_... _

Wondering who else but himself dared to venture into the private quarters of Lord Aizen, he squinted his eyes, staring at the massive silhouette that could be clearly distinguished by the orange glow of the torches placed along the balustrade.

The characteristic streaks of colorful reflections shimmering brightly in the changing light soon told him about the adventurous man in question. Enchanted by this providential encounter, the man flexed his chops, anticipating the pleasure he would derive from this unexpected situation.

He immediately lost interest in the delightful ladies who were competing for his good graces with fluttering lashes and giggles, preferring to stare at the blue panther in front of him.

His sickly smile stretched even further, if that was possible, when he noticed that the American wasn't paying the slightest attention to him. He stopped abruptly, leaving his company guinea fowls to make an impromptu halt, reaping high-pitched squeals of surprise in the manoeuvre, and waited for his counterpart to turn his gaze towards him.

Khamsim was the first to react, jumping from the blue-hair's arms to his shoulder, suspicious, and began to growl dully, his fur bristling and his ears flat on his skull. Surprised, Grimmjow also stopped and searched for the cause of his reaction.

_... _

The albino grinned with amusement and did not move, preferring to observe the gestures of the main interesting party. For his pretty prey had instantly stiffened in reaction to the animal's agitation and slowly looked up, meeting his narrowed eyes burning with anticipation.

_... _

The bluet held his breath when he recognized him, his brain went full speed, meticulously searching for a way out of this hornet's nest. He quickly scanned the area, spotting all possible exits and came to the obvious conclusion that escape was no longer an option. Unfortunately, he knew the man in front of him all too well, he wouldn't last 3 meters. The way was closed.

The foxy man let him realize this for himself, let him come to his own conclusions, savoring at its true value the distress that was intermittently diluted in the raging depths of the overseas ocean eyes confronting him.

He smiled leniently, gazing fondly at the blueness of those eyes before slightly intensifying the flow of his aura. Grimmjow twitched and lowered imperceptibly into a defensive posture as the feline camped on his shoulders pushed a long, threatening yowling.

Absorbed by this happy mishap, the albino had completely obscured the presence of the three gallinaceae at his side. At first intrigued, they had quickly grown tired of the scene, after having devoured the azure man with their eyes, an instinct of seduction, and had decided, by mutual agreement, to remind themselves of the good favours of their companion. Fluttering her lashes, the taller one stood between the two men and smiled coyly :

\- Gin-Sama, you promised to show us the hidden secrets of the Western wing! So why did we stop? Let's go and have some fun!

\- Who is that man, Gin-Sama? Is he someone you know? You can deal with the subject tomorrow, tonight you're ours! "jealously adds the second one with a sulky pout while clinging possessively to the silver man's arm.

The third, a fine brunette, remained silent, staring thoughtfully at the azure man. Her two companions elbowed her skillfully, making her jump. She quickly recomposed herself and, with watery eyes, whispered:

\- What are we waiting for, Gin-Sama? We have the whole night ahead of us... Come and enjoy it with us!

The said "Gin-Sama" held back his annoyance with difficulty, lowering his gaze on the three chickens who dared to come between him and his true prey of the evening. He squinted a little more, losing his evil smile, before sighing. Apparently, he would have to get rid of his cumbersome partners before he could take advantage of the opportunity. Well, it seemed relatively fair, tit for tat, he could make an effort. The question was how was he going to do it, did he or did he not want to keep them at hand for later? They had found him on their own, as he prowled as usual in the suffocating chaos of the nightly festivities, exhilarated by the variegated scents of terrestrial sins.

Indeed, it was not uncommon for ephemeral couples to form during the citadel's sumptuous nocturnal celebrations, if only to better shatter the next day, once the golden light of the solar star came to illuminate the crude ethylic remains of the previous night's debauchery.

They had chosen their moment, he wished more than anything to forget, so he seized the opportunity. After all, it was no secret that the fearsome auctioneer was not reluctant to fulfill the desires of these young ladies, as long as their reputation was immaculate or almost so.

Lost in thought for barely a fraction of a second, he nevertheless did not miss a single glimpse of the bluet's slight motion, taking advantage of the general distraction to escape. Tss, would he never learn?

The silvery one pretended to get closer to him. The man defied the albino's gaze and exposed his fangs, quickly imitated by the little feline lurking on his broad shoulders. Ichimaru raised an eyebrow, ooh, that, on the other hand, was deliciously new. Never before had Grimmjow Jaggerjack dared to threaten him so openly, not even in his unforgettable grand debut. His thin lips stretched into a predatory smile, his tongue darting rapidly through the air, he looked like a fox licking his chops and his aura reflected it. The head of security flinched and stood alert. The auctioneer opened his mouth and Grimmjow made up his mind. He leapt back and turned his heels, throwing himself at full speed, with Khamsim firmly grasped in his arms.

Gin's smile got even bigger if it was possible:

\- Wrong choice, gorgeous, wrong choice, but you couldn't have made me happier," he purred, delighted.

\- GIN-SAMAAAAA! cooed the three guinea fowls on duty. We are waiting for you, let's go!"they quacked all together, they were delighted that the distraction of their target had vanished by itself, grabbing the arms of the fox-man who had totally forgotten about them.

He barely contained himself, and, clenching and loosening his fists spasmodically, his nails digging into his flesh with each contraction, he built up a front complexion before bending over the young dogs in manger, preventing him from chasing in peace:

\- My sweet, sweet little linnets, an urgent matter awaits me. You see me greatly distressed that I cannot enjoy your pleasant company and your no less admirable sagacity any longer. I have the utmost confidence that you will be able to find something to keep your hands busy, if not more, in spite of all. On that note, very good night to you, my dearest ones, may it be as prolific as you hoped!

\- Jeez, Gin-Sama, you're not going to run after that savage who snarled at you," cried the fine brunette, her pretty eyebrows adorably furrowed, framed by her two blonde acolytes lost in reflection, surely still trying to determine if an insult was hidden in the flattering speech that the silver one had served them.

Ichimaru raised his brows and, gradually losing all expression as his angry diatribe unfolded, slowly leaned over her:

\- My sweet exotic hummingbird, with all due respect and please believe me, it is very thin, this savage as you say, if only you knew how right you are, is one of the most beautiful specimens I have ever been given to find in this world. He is so much more precious than your insignificant little person that it is an aberration. Don't even dare, not even the slightest graze to think being able to compete with him, ever, coldly whispered the albino in his ear in a toneless voice, with the utmost calm, his aura quivering dangerously around him, paralyzing the brunette.

He backed away, abandoning the immobile young woman and displayed his most magnificent smile, offering an astounding contrast to his interlocutors:

\- Ladies, your humble servant now takes his leave. Until, I fervently hope, very soon," he concluded, bowing his torso outrageously in a sinister mockery of a bow.

_..._

He turned around and rushed into the gallery in which the ultramarine one had disappeared. These imbeciles had offered the American a reprieve and it would not be easy to catch him with five minutes late. The feline man was just as fast and discreet as his soul mate. Tss, if these three nuisances were not linked to vulgar turkeys, he swore on the Al'Ajjaj to submit to ... no, after reflection, not that far! He could not afford to let his mind wander to this man's side, he had another one to hunt. Don't think about him, not now, concentrate on the hunt, concentrate on the azure one.

He stopped his run at a junction and closed his eyes, smelling the swaying breeze, watching the guttural silence of the chiseled stone galleries. For a moment, he was nothing but a motionless sculpture, frozen in time and space, a dark silhouette battered by the warm breath of the lemongrass-scented oriental night. His perpetually narrowed eyes suddenly opened on two slit pupils while a forked tongue caressed his curled lips and a hissing sound escaped from them:

\- " Got you <3 ! »

_... _

Grimmjow was running. He ran as if his life depended on it. He had no choice, not with Aizen's favorite tracker on his tail. It was already a miracle that he wasn't on him yet. He came out onto the main artery, not very busy at this late hour, and headed upstairs, barely out of breath. Khamsim, coiled up in his arms, was sending him soothing signals despite his anxiety.

He would not let himself be pushed around, not this time, and he felt a roar of approval deep inside him that made him grow wings. All he had to do was reach his room and he would be safe. Aizen had long ago forbidden access to anyone. He had to climb up to the top floor of the central tower and reach his quarters by the wide aerial bridge that ran between the main tower that housed the central artery and the real West wing, Lord Aizen's private residence.

He finally reached the top of the building, with the imposing arachnean structure lying on top of the void stretching out in front of him, his salvation within reach. Unfortunately, what would stories be like if everything really went the way we wanted it to?

Grimmjow, true to this adage, risked a glance behind his shoulder. Only the cold marble and the intermittent darkness caused by the flickering flame of the torches whipped by the night winds answered him. He glanced down, discerning the gardens and courtyards illuminated by the festivities unfolding in full bloom, almost guessing the shades of heady incense that flew up to him. The bridge was deserted, and only snippets of music that reached it disturbed the apparent peacefulness. The American was not relieved though. Ichimaru Gin was fearsome in many ways.

He took a deep breath, smelling the night air, and began to run, letting the gentle east wind cherish his golden skin. The flames dancing under the oriental breeze gave his wicks iridescent reflections and nimbed his wild body with tangerine nuances. He was truly magnificent like this.

-" Lovely, handsome, very lovely."

The blue one froze in the middle of the race and slowly turned his head, discovering the albino leaning against the railing, arms folded, less than a meter away from him, smiling more sickly than ever. He swerved while Khamsim spat out his surprise and started running again, refusing defeat, refusing to give up now, refusing above all to admit that he hadn't heard him, nor felt him coming before he manifested himself. He was fast and, most importantly, he had less than a quarter of the distance left to run. He glanced at the foxy man who hadn't taken off the guardrail and was still grinning. The feline man wanted to believe it, he occulted all his memories of Gin, everything he knew about him, preferring to focus on the entrance of the wing that was holding out its arms to him.

A susurred hiss in his ear put an end to his hopes permanently:

\- "Game over, sweetheart. "

 _..._

  
A long animalistic howl mingled with rage and despair tore the silence of the night.

_... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I appreciate the kudos and comments if you ever have a minute!
> 
> See you soon :)


	10. Ghibli or Ciaccona of death blow, end of an era and presages of hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, welcome! 
> 
> Receiving Kudo and comments made me very happy, thank you :)
> 
> Here comes chapter 10 !

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds blow

Chapter 10 : Ghibli or Ciaccona of death blow, end of an era and presages of hurricane

_ Initially, towards the end of the 16th century, the **chaconne** is a popular song to dance, with three beats of lively character, originating in America, during the vice kingdom of New Spain and introduced in Spain by sailors. Transplanted to other European countries at the beginning of the 17th century, it became a dance of noble character. _

_~~... ~~ _

Gin had mowed him down in full stride, knocking him on his back, and was now trying to reach his throat. Khamsim, ejected on impact, had fallen back on his paws and was spitting with all his might toward the silver man. Roaring, the bluet was struggling his damnedest to free himself from his assailant's grip.

Smiling, the albino easily dodged a vicious blow from the security chief who would have sent him to the canvas, taking advantage of the opportunity to grab both wrists with one hand with disconcerting ease, blocking his arms above his head and using the other to firmly grasp the exposed throat of his prey, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks.

\- "Piss off! Get the fuck off me, you motherfucker! "spat furiously out the American, making the hunter frown, who simply tightened his grip on the throat of his prey, making it gasp in pain and stop at the same time, for lack of oxygen.

Watching the tanned chest rise quickly in a panicky breathing rhythm, Gin slowly licked his lips while his eyes voraciously caressed the muscular body being offered to him. Oh what a splendid lightning rod he had found there! It would do much better than those three clucking and bawling turkeys!

Grimmjow tried desperately not to panic. After all, it wasn't the first time he had fallen into the mercilessy playful claws of the silvery. Hissing dully, he focused, forcing himself to temporarily obliterate the scars that the foxy man had left in souvenir, and relaxed, waiting for the right moment.

Showing his slight wonder regarding this new attitude with an imperceptible raised eyebrow, Gin, suspicious, strengthens his grip on the wrists of the feline man before opening his mouth:

\- "Grimmy, Grimmy, Grimmy, what are you doing here? You know, I do not intend to let you go, nor you, nor your pretty wrists, nor even let this escape," he whispered as he joined his words to his gestures, running his tongue along the jugular of the azrue man that shivered with disgust, while Khamsim hissed out its rage.

One did not mess. With his human.

The cat dashed off, landing softly on Jaggerjack's broad torso, which tensed slightly on impact before widening his eyes.

Ichimaru turned his head, finally taking an interest in the thin furious feline that stood between him and his prey. He raised a second eyebrow, remaining doubtful for a moment before the light came on and his smile came back on his face:

  
\- "But who's there, it is indeed the little Khamsim, I would bet my bottom dollar on it ! What are you doing around here, you usually prowl around in the upper districts, don't you? »

The feline shot a dirty glance at him before authoritatively placing his front paws on the bluet's chest, claiming his property with a peremptory mewing.

Gin's gaze narrowed even more, if possible, before he leaned toward the animal that stood proudly camped on its designated prey of the evening:

  
\- "Him? You are reclaiming him? Are you that interested in him? »

An eloquent growl answered him as the cat doubled in size as its coat grew so much that it looked like a large ball of fur, but rather the dangerous kind of fur ball.

Indeed, the prolonged grip of the silvery on the neck of the bluish had dangerously turned him to indigo and he was now struggling with the energy of despair. Gin, absent-minded, finally realized and carelessly released him. Grimmjow straightened as much as his wrists, still glued to the ground by the foxy man's other hand, sputtered and tried to suck in a great gulp of fresh air, coughing like mad before raising a prodigiously dark look, promising a thousand deaths to his tormentor. The said tormentor stared at him fondly for a while, disregarding his prey's desire to kill him before stroking his cheek with the tip of his index, amusedly dodging the gleaming fangs that did not fail to try to grab this insulting finger.

\- "Certainly. I admit that he is fascinating. »

This time, the animal's yowling became approving.

The albino frowned, and as his expression turned to storm, he whispered in a venomous tone:

\- "But there is a problem, you see, he is mine. He was mine, long before he could be yours. It's as simple as that. »

Khamsim let out a mocking cheep. The tracker in ivory fur, owning the ultramarine man ? Nonsense! His sapphire human, he only shared him with his master!

The silvery one smiled indulgently:

\- "You are young, Khamsim. You are, what, about four years old now? »

The feline puffed up his chest and ruffled his fur a little more, almost chirping proudly. Indeed, he was fully adult.

\- "So, Gin added, "you weren't even born when your beloved Grimmjow arrived at the citadel?

\- Miih?", the feline's ears slowly flopped back onto his skull as his coat dropped like a failed soufflé, and the meowing became very hesitant.

_ ~~...~~ _

Meanwhile, a Grimmjow Jaggerjack, still wheezing, was slowly but surely enraging to be completely ignored in favor of a cat, certainly not an ordinary cat, but still! Above all, he hated being the subject of conversation without anyone bothering to ask his opinion on the matter! Outraged, he was furiously fomenting an outburst, sulking in his corner, when he suddenly raised his ear to Gin's last words, fearfully anticipating the rest of his little speech.

\- "You don't know what happened almost six years ago now. You don't know how it happened. You don't know what your master commanded at the time. You don't know what your beloved human did and went through. You know nothing! Nothing at all," the foxy man purred with delight.

Each sentence had sounded like a death bell for the bluet that had felt his heart tighten a little more with each word uttered by that velvety voice that he knew only too well. He closed his eyes for a moment, repressing difficultly the bad memories that Gin's sweet words had unearthed.

Although distrustful, the cat sat on the man's chest, attentive, waiting for the justifications of the bleached hunter. The notion of property and territory was very important among felids. However, he delicately wrapped his tail around the bruised throat, gently retracing the purplish ecchymosis that were beginning to appear on the tanned skin, the absolute antithesis of the hunter's gesture, trying by this very act to bring comfort and support to his favorite human.

Ichimaru smiled at this sight, more than delighted by the turn that events were taking. He cleared his throat and began his story:

\- "You see, when this splendid specimen here found himself in our beautiful country, willy-nilly, I grant you, he had to be taught good manners, and he happened to be particularly unreceptive to his lessons. Naughty boy," he cooed, caressing with his free hand the azure strands of the man whom he held flat on the ground, making him snarl and scold.  
It was thus necessary to resort to great means to... stimulate him? No, let's rather say to push him to develop his attention and his capacities. So I integrated his little daily program. It must be said that at the beginning, he was not attentive at all. But as the sessions went on, he was forced to reconsider his options. I helped him become what he is now, the perfect little soldier, almost perfect at least," Ichimaru smiles as he hears the said perfect little soldier swearing profusely.

Khamsim emitted an uncompromising chirp, certainly, he understood what the diluted one was saying, but he had no tangible proof of his legitimacy on his human.

Gin did not flinch, except for a slight laugh, amused by the obvious impatience of the feline.

\- "I'm getting there, I'm getting there. There's no need to make a hairball out of it. »

The animal growled but remained seated, waiting for the outcome, deciding to ignore the degrading expression.

\- "Right. So my job was to train our little kitten here... " He was quickly interrupted by the kitten in question, in a very bad mood:

\- Don't call me that! And stop pretending m'not there! Let me go, goddammit, for fuck's sake, you fucker !

\- My, my, language, beautiful, language, interrupted the albino by putting authoritatively his fingers on the mouth of the azure one, who saw irremediably red and stood for himself, only this time.

The tracker brought his hand back sharply in front of his face, contemplating with curiosity his bloody index and middle fingers, staring at the scarlet fluid that escaped freely from the openings that the sharp fangs of the azure had left in his flesh.

Grimmjow, still held on the ground by the other hand of the ivory one who had not let go of him despite the surprise, spat out and then smiled with all his teeth, his usually immaculate canines tinged with vermilion.

Khamsim, who had jumped to the side, tilted his head to the side, intrigued. After all, if his human wanted to confront the hunter, that was up to him. Besides, he had too rarely seen the bluet fight, it promised to be interesting.

Gin raised his head, plunging into the satisfied lagoon blue gaze and without breaking contact, brought his hand to his lips and collected the vital substance from the tip of his tongue, slowly widening his eyes. The sapphire one lost his smile little by little as he watched in horror as the albino's pupils changed from perfect circles to simple vertical slits, dark gleaming scratches in the ethereal translucence of the fox's irises, which had not blinked a single instant during the whole process. An icy shiver ran up his spine, for the last time he had seen those eyes, everything had ended very badly.

Challenging him despite everything, his gaze still planted in the now slit eyes of the tracker, he shuddered as his attention was unwillingly focused on the metallic flavor that impregnated his tongue, the twin aroma of the blood that stained the chin of the ophidian man who was facing him, and who was still staring at him with a smirk on his face.

\- "I admit I wasn't expecting that one. The kitten knows how to bite in the end. "The free arm of the silver one moved at a terrifying, inhuman speed, grabbing the blue one by the throat, cutting off his breath on the spot, his fingers coming perfectly imprinted on the marks that already adorned the skin. The American struggled as best he could, suffocating, while Gin brought his face closer, until their bloody breaths mingled.

\- You know, gorgeous, I didn't mean to hurt you. I was planning to make you run and play nicely once I caught you. I just wanted to bother you a little bit, like in the good old days. Nothing bad, you know me," he murmured in a dangerously calm voice, almost...saddened?

Grimmjow gasped painfully, quite unable to answer. The tracker loosened his grip for a fraction of a second, leaving a dying Jaggerjack eagerly breathing in a shot of oxygen and resumed:

\- "But you're more unpredictable than I thought you would be. And you've generously offered me this," he concluded with a sorry sigh, waving his reddened fingers, releasing his throat to do so.

He delicately grasped the chin of his opposite who did not flinch, smearing it with ruby at the same time and brought his mouth rimmed with red to his ear:

\- "It was unexpected, really. I thought you were just a shattered puppet, a broken toy from being used too much. But there you were all this time, the real you, your fierce will hidden under that veneer of silence and obedience. You were tempting before, but now this...oh, this is even better," Gin whispered with delight, almost purring. After all, with a little savagery it's always more pleasant. »

The aura of the albino twisted like a badly tuned radio wave, a perfect reflection of the agitation and excitement in between which the ivory man oscillated.

The violent breath so characteristic of the Ghibli rose, taking with it myriads of stardust in the night, making the clothes of the two protagonists and the fur of the feline spectator twirl, raising a mass of hot and dry air, freezing the scene, an unreal snapshot of a drama to come.

_~~... ~~ _

Alarmed by the distinct change in the atmosphere, Grimmjow attempted a backward movement.

Gin didn't allow him the time to do so.

  
_ ~~...~~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you soon for chapter 11 ^^ If you don't want to miss the next chapter release, please consider ticking the story subscription ;)
> 
> I really appreciate your feedback, if you like my story you can thank me by leaving a small comment or a Kudo!
> 
> Bye bye :D


	11. Sharav or Passacaglia taboo of an acute distress that finally finds its source

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's go, little gift, we'll go straight to chapter 11! 
> 
> Good reading ;)

The Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds blow

  
Chapter 11: Sharav or Passacaglia taboo of an acute distress that finally finds its source

_ The **passacaglia** is practiced by itinerant musicians (as its etymology denotes: pasar por la calle). At this stage of its evolution, it becomes indistinguishable from the chaconne, as the names seem to be interchangeable depending on the composer. One of the most remarkable passacaglia is Homo fugit velut umbra - Passacaglia della vita (Man flees like a shadow - Passacaglia of life), attributed to Stefano Landi (1586-1639). _

~~_... _ ~~

The tracker swooped on the lips of the azure one, dragging him into a wild and demanding kiss. Their lips rippled, one, rebellious, trying to escape, the other, passionate, chasing him with all its rage. Soon the imperious tongue of the silvery one came begging for more, forcing the blue one to half-open its mouth and sneaked into the welcoming lair, spreading everywhere the metallic flavor of his own blood, intertwining and merging their boiling senses. Grimmjow moaned helplessly, closing his eyes in distress, unable to bear the weight of the split pupils of the tracker that seemed to probe him to the very depths of his soul, shamelessly taunting him.

Ichimaru, for his part, simply savored the taste of the blood, mixed with a new, exotic and delicate flavor, which he guessed to be that of the bluet himself. This association, he decided immediately, was both deliciously unique and diabolically heady. So he enjoyed making the kiss last as long as possible, reveling in the tattooed man's attempts to escape. Finally, the albino had to resolve to leave the American's lips. As he finally backed away, he felt the sapphire man's body slacken with relief, so he allowed himself one last twist, slylyly closing his teeth on the tongue of his prey.

Grimmjow suddenly opened his eyes as he felt the canines biting his flesh, plunging into the darkened pupils of the silvery one as he walked away without letting go. The azure quickly found himself in a very unpleasant dilemma: either he was following the albino's movement or he was on the verge of having his tongue ripped out by the same so-called albino. A sharp pain implicitly swung his decision when Gin tightened his jaw slightly, impatient. Grimmjow straightened up as much as he could, almost sticking to the ivory's chest, at least as much as his backward outstretched arms would allow, his wrists still held down by the tracker's wrist beginning to cause him serious pain.

The said tracker pushed the vice until Jaggerjack groaned in pain, his back arched to the limit of breaking. Ichimaru had arranged for the bluet to be inevitably pressed against his torso, allowing him to feel the slightest tremor of his trembling body, bent to the extreme.

_~~... ~~ _

From the perspective of an outside observer, the scene seemed suspended by time itself, surprising its two protagonists, two Sybarite silhouettes intertwined on this deserted bridge swept by night winds, in a scandalous posture, forming a fierce and destructive couple under the complicit gaze of the radiant moon, caressed by the burning breath of an approving Sharav.

The first man, so pale, seemed to reflect the siliceous glow of the celestial body, his opalescent streaks falling on his thin and cruel face, masking his slit pupils. The second, his perfect opposite, was built of contrasts, a solar being with a tanned complexion so well matched to his azure hair, bluer than the blue of a clear summer sky.

Both were, at first glance, drowned in a breathless embrace, sharing the same libertine respiration. The possessive ivory one dominated the kiss, which one guessed to be brutal, and at the same time, harmoniously embraced each curve of his partner's arched body with thoughtfulness.

_ ~~...~~ _

And yet, a skilled eye would have detected the breach. Whether it was the shivers, both fearful and angry, that ran through the blue man's skin, his frightened gaze or the visible efforts of the silvery man to keep the situation as it was, these signs alone showed that it was not passion or love that drove the two men.

_ ~~...~~ _

Unfortunately, the observer in the shadows at the entrance to the bridge had apparently an extremely unsharp eye. She silently steps back, jaws clenched and fists clenched, before turning around and hurrying in the opposite direction to the so-called lovers. Obsessed with the vision of the two embracing bodies, she paid no attention to the third silhouette, which was nestled in the shadow of the outer bay and watched her pass by without saying a word, and forked at the corner of the corridor, disappearing into the night.

This silhouette came out of hiding, her bright eyes had not missed a gesture from the two antagonists and had logically deduced what there was to suspect, unlike the other shortsighted and inconvenient witness who had slipped away. She smiled in the spurious darkness of the Arabian night and turned her attention to the two men who were still in a more than compromising and oh so outrageously exciting posture.

_~~... ~~ _ ~~ ~~

The lead weight so thick you could cut it with a knife, which immobilized the action, shattered nevertheless into silent crystal shards when the albino broke the precarious balance he had established, by slamming his lower abdomen against the feline man's with a sudden hip stroke. The azure one widened his eyes, mortified, before starting to fight again, even more violently than before, even if it meant hurting himself. The man with silver hair, indulgent, opened his jaw, allowing the bluet man to move back his face as much as his more than uncomfortable position allowed him.

"You see, my insubordinate Jaggerjack, I had other expectations for tonight but you managed to change my plans. So I'm going to tell you the program for the evening and we'll see what you think about it, okay? First of all, I'm going to let you go, just until you get back on your paws, anyway if you try to escape from me, the result will just be worse, for you I mean. Then I'm going to drag you to my apartments, probably throw you on the bed, I haven't thought much about it yet, take off all this annoying fabric, preferably tearing it to shreds, and use you as I feel best to express all the frustration I've been accumulating since this morning. Or just fucking you on the carpet and listen to you moan, that could be pretty nice too. What do you say to that?" Gin mused in a pedantic, pensive tone, his affable mask had cracked, only sporadically hiding the dull madness that wandered and jumped in the hollow of his gaze.

_~~... ~~ _

To his defense, the foxy man had always flirted with his limits, maintaining himself like a tightrope walker on the cord of reason, frolicking at the borders of dementia with the ease that practice confers. However, the accumulation of annoying events during the day had put his self-control to severe trial, but he was used to it when necessary. Then he had to come across THIS person, which basically didn't help. Then...well, he was happy to skip the three klutzes on duty. But what his nature couldn't stand was that HIS prey dared to resist him so much. Oh, it hadn't upset him that badly, on the contrary, no, the feline man's disobedience had only inflamed his being, releasing his predatory impulses. And to top it all off, the delicious smell of the blue man as well as the warmth typical of his condition had melted his self-control.

The taste of blood had triggered his transmutation, he knew it, but he had managed to limit the change to his eyes. But right there and then, his instincts had fused, submerging his consciousness and judgment in a chaotic maelstrom from which only a clear desire for domination and devastating excitement emerged, to name but two. And retaining his naturalness longer became more taxing with each passing second. He had quickly weighed his options, struggling to keep his thoughts as clear as possible. After a few seconds of hard thinking, the tracker had finally made up his mind and came to a very simple and unique conclusion: Aizen was not going to be happy. He was not going to be happy at all.

~~_... _ ~~

Grimmjow, on the other hand, was enraged. Fuck, he hadn't asked anyone for anything! What he wanted was to go back quietly to his room and sleep to forget his week that was starting so badly! And his life, while he was there. But why had he gone out?! And now the other pervert was after him! He couldn't limit himself to his bitches, shit, that was the last straw ! As if he couldn't content himself with having Aizen on his back, without any doubtful pun. No, he had to do both at the same time, always without bad puns. He was sick to the back teeth, without any pu... raah, he really had to change his vocabulary! He was fed up, yeah, sick and fucking tired! A sadistic stalker, he could take it, he had already done it during all these oh so many last long years. The submission, he had unfortunately already experienced it too often for it to hurt him irremediably. The kiss, it was already the gesture in excess, but there, there was no need to push! The day hadn't come when Grimmjow Jaggerjack would start a career as a gigolo. It wasn't written sex-toy on his forehead!

Ichimaru let him go just as the blue one, scarlet with fury, psychologically passed the point of no return, something breaking inside him in a dry snap.

Without the support of the silvery one, nothing held the American, who fell back down to the ground, breathing a painful gasp as his spine was released from the tension that was so intensely bending it. Gin had already straightened up and stared at him, a demented smile on his lips. Drawing on his reserves, the American rose with all the dignity he was capable of, as straight as an iron bar, under the sneering gaze of the tracker.

Now, it was necessary to act quickly and well. Grimmjow, resolute, placed himself in profile, arms raised, in a guard position, reducing to a minimum the openings that his imposing body could leave, he knew it very well. Gin's slit eyes narrowed and his aura began to crackle and twitch again like an old, badly calibrated radio.

Then he smiled, but a smile so sweet that it would have melted all the eternal snows of the continent if they had had the bad idea to be there.

The tracker, to the great anxiety of the feline man, takes a few steps back, contemplating the frozen bluet in a defensive position, before giving him a ravaging wink, atrociously out of context, and simply raising his arms, releasing his aura. Entirely. Without any restraint.

_ ~~...~~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you soon for chapter 12!
> 
> Bye bye :D


	12. Gharbi or Marcato of a reciprocal incomprehension drowned by the desire for an irreversible awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back for chapter 12!
> 
> Have a good reading :)

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 12 : Gharbi or Marcato of a reciprocal incomprehension drowned by the desire for an irreversible awakening

_**Marcato** is an Italian word (marcato, marked) designating a way of playing the notes by hammering them. The musician can detach each note or accentuate them. Its main use is to draw attention to the melody or subject that can be neglected._

~~ _..._ ~~

It was like opening all the floodgates of an overloaded dam and finding oneself below, across the path of several thousand cubic meters of raging water, at least that was the vision Grimmjow had to face as he painfully gritted his teeth and hit the current head on.

The silvery man, exhilarated, burst out laughing, a real laugh, a frank laugh, even more frightening than the little sneers he used to gratify the bluet before.

For the vision of an Ichimaru Gin intoxicated with power, laughing out loud, arms still wide open, surrounded by a dull gray halo undulating furiously like molten quicksilver, was one of the most terrifying things the tattooed man had seen in his life. His hilarity seemed inexhaustible, and his laughter rose, increasingly lively, taking on accents of dementia, verging on heart-rending highs, testing the sensitive eardrums of the feline man.

Then suddenly, without ceasing to laugh, the albino vanished, leaving the head of security taken aback.

"Too slow, kitten", the voice, immaterial, almost seraphic, resounded like a death sentence in his ear.

Grimmjow swung around, instinctively hitting the origin of the mocking comment, and found only the void and the cobblestones of the wind-battered spider arch.

  
"Missed. ", commented the amused, cruelly mocking voice.

The blueness wasted no time in trying to find its source, which he knew was perfectly useless. On the other hand, he knew an ironclad way to force his tormentor to show himself.

He took a deep breath and rushed with all the speed he could muster towards the West Block tower, pushing his muscles to the limit, wincing when he felt them protesting, as the albino's good treatments had visibly not spared them. It was because he had pushed his concentration to the maximum, focusing on his most developed senses while neglecting all the others, that he managed to sense the tracker's arrival. And when his arms came out of the shadows right in front of him, almost lovingly embracing his torso, he was ready.

"You couldn't play your trump card any worse, angel. " persified the foxy man, openly disappointed, a translucent splinter of sweet madness burning in the depths of his disappointed gaze.

  
It was this sentence, more than the eccentric attitude, even for him, of the albino, that convinced Grimmjow that his state of mind prevented him from reasoning clearly, for if Ichimaru Gin had been in full possession of his faculties, he would have been suspicious, at least slightly. And indeed, if the tattooed man had let himself be caught as purely and solely as that, it was because he was no longer interested in fleeing, oh no, not at all. What he wanted more than anything else in the world, at that very moment, was to attack the tracker, and preferably to hurt him very badly, but he wasn't very careful about the degree of pain as long as he managed to inflict it upon him.

When the silver one closed his embrace, gluttonously hugging his prey, Grimmjow's trained body contracted.

Thanks to his inhuman reflexes, Gin avoided most of the damage but could not dodge the blueness's final desperate strike. When the silver-haired man released him and rushed his hand to his blood-covered collarbone, the tattooed man uttered a wild roar that sounded as much like a declaration of war as it did a cry of victory.

And the sky heard it, the vault of heaven was torn with a blinding flash of lightning, almost immediately followed by a deafening roll of thunder, a faithful and inseparable duetto, heralding the dreaded oriental storms that let nothing and no one escape their wrath, imprinting their merciless mark on the parched earth and the insignificant beings who trample it.

~~ _..._ ~~

Soon, a relentless rain fell on the two opponents, uniform momentum disrupted by torrents sent back almost vertically by the Gharbi, creating updrafts against the laws of the earth.

Water ran down Gin's pale body, gradually cleansing the wound that the man now had above his left collarbone, revealing an extremely sharp bite mark as the fangs had sunk deep into the flesh, testifying to their owner's stubbornness. Unlike the last time he had tasted the albino's blood on his palate, Jaggerjack was not smiling. Crouched in a singular feline mimicry, he waited for the riposte that would soon fall.

The foxy man was shivering, his cracked gaze still fixed on the hemoglobin covering his palm, slowly diluted by the astral tears that then rolled down his forearm, leaving in their path scarlet streaks that followed the pattern of bluish veins waving just below, particularly striking on his liliary skin, almost translucent, before rolling to the bony tip of his elbow and sinking into anonymity, joining faceless sisters to become one. Slowly he raised his head, seemingly discovering the man who was facing him for the first time.

The bluet tensed up, ready to welcome the silvery man with all he had. Said silvery one didn't move an eyelash, content to stare at him with a new eye. Exasperated, Grimmjow finally cracked:

"Get the fuck over here! Come on, I'm ready when you are! Come and bloody get me, come on! "shouted the azure with all his strength, throwing up his rage and fear through the waves, letting the water caress his face, allowing deeply buried tumultuous feelings to finally resurface. He felt alive for the first time in a very long time. A sensation close to what he had felt when he had pursued this red-headed man of hypnotic vivacity, when he had been unable to resist his imperious impulse to touch him, but disproportionately amplified.

Ichimaru remained silent, staring at the American without really believing it. Finally, he took a single step forward, instantly putting the American on his guard. In a voice scratched by his psychotic outbursts of laughter that had lasted only a few minutes, a little eternity, he croaked:

"Grimmjow... are you... crying? »

The Westerner stared at him in disbelief, what the fuck had that snake bastard come up with again? But the albino seemed deadly serious. He finally began to realize that it wasn't just celestial tears that were falling down his cheeks. Bewildered, he brought his fingers to his face, collecting the sweet pearls that flowed unrestrainedly from his eyes. He did not understand. He just didn't.

The silver-haired one seemed hypnotized by the tears of blueness. During all these years, he hadn't granted him even one, despite all that he had put him through. What was the difference? What had changed? He didn't understand anything anymore.

He took one more step towards the tattooed man, then another, without him seeming to pay any attention, focused on his palms, which had begun to shake violently. He finally reached him, gathering his face between his hands, plunging into his gaze drowned in tears and interrogations and yet so inexpressive, almost lifeless. A violent shock electrified him, and unconsciously, without being able to hold them back, his hands went down along his neck, surrounding him delicately, marrying the velvet of his alabaster phalanges with the purplish marks he had engraved earlier.

The blue-haired man did not move, leaving the long fingers of the albino line his bruised throat. Gin didn't know why his body had begun to move on its own, but what he was certain of was that he didn't want a Grimmjow Jaggerjack in that state. He then looked for a way, whatever it was, to return the situation to his advantage.

Tilting his head to the side, he questioned him in a silky voice:

"Tell me, do you know what's being whispered about me? »

The tanned man remained unresponsive, before the question managed to cross the dense cloudy fog that invaded his mind. He frowned, challenged by Gin's questioning, digging into his memories, clinging to the banal reality of language, like a drowning man to his lifebuoy.

\- "I only know what the rumors are saying," he articulated, hesitantly, in a fragile voice, the voice of a lost child.

\- Well, that's a good start. Go ahead," encouraged the pale one gently.

\- They say that you have two soul mates. Two opposite beings, ambivalent, as paradoxical as they are complementary.

\- Go on.

\- They say that it is complicated enough to live with a soul mate, so two... Their innermost being would become completely..., the blueness hesitated.

\- Crazy? Insane?" the tracker finished for him. Schizophrenic, perhaps?

\- Split in two. Divided forever. Torn between two eventualities without having the right to choose one definitively, corrected the hunter.

\- Beautifully formulated! And well summarized. And then, according to these famous rumors, what would be the nature of my tehilas?

\- No one really knows," Grimmjow recited in a monotone voice, his gaze wandering again, lost in the haze.

\- Rumors are a bit shallow these days, ah what sad times we live in! And... what do you think?" the transluscent man cooed as he brought his slit eyes closer to the bluet's face, caressing the silky skin of his nape with the tips of his long, thin fingers, almost feverishly trying to anchor him to solid ground with this contact.

Grimmjow's irises flamed, growing in intensity, chasing away the blur that had settled in and obscured their already dangerously flickering flame.

\- "Snake," he spat without hesitation, disgusted, turning his eyes away from the ophidian pupils that were scanning him.

\- But he is observant, our dear chief of security," persified the silver-haired man. And what about my other tehila?

\- I don't know," evaded the bluish one, trying to free himself abruptly.

Ichimaru tightened drastically the grip of his hands, immobilizing the azure, dominating it by a few centimeters. He contemplated for a moment the disillusioned face facing him before breathing a long, resolute sigh. Then he graciously bent his head so as to reach the bluet's clavicles, which shuddered as the albino licked the thin area, stretched like a velvety drumhead over the delicate bone framework. The snaky man's warm tongue ran along the elegant line drawn into the flesh, redrawing every arch, every curve.

Then he paused, the tip of his nose curled into the bony depression, before sighing again, releasing some of the pressure that drummed at his temples, and gently stabbing in his canines, which lengthened as they progressed through the wound until they became long, sharp fangs and came to rest in the heart of a vein beating the immutable measure of a vital score. The security chief held back a muffled complaint, not daring to move while the fangs were still stuck in his flesh.

The tracker withdrew slowly, making his prey snarl when his teeth grazed a nerve on the way out. Grimmjow was mortified, to be sure, but most of all horribly divided. If it had been pure pain, he could have endured it, or even better, resisted it, but as the auctioneer plunged into the depths of his being, the contact became irresistibly sensual and a feeling of languor spread throughout his body, his cells screaming and begging for more of that delicious touch. The azure man desperately shook his head, refusing to admit what he had felt.

\- "You can't blame yourself, you know. It's the effect of my venom. And well, an eye for an eye..., whispered the albino, mockingly pointing to the deep bite that adorned his own body.

\- What have you done to me," growled the American, his face darkening alarmingly.

\- Breathe, will you? You seemed to be in a state of shock, I tried to make you react with my little questioning, but I don't have the virtue of being patient. So I opted for another method. You'll just be more relaxed and you may have a sudden urge to tell me the truth. That is all.

\- That's all?! That's ALL?! Are you fucking kidding me, you bastard?! You think I want to share my entire life with you? Go die!

\- Tss, tss, language! Wait a few more minutes and we'll talk about it again, ok gorgeous ?", smiled the silver one.

_ ~~...~~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We reached the 500 "hits" on this English translation of my French story, I'm so happy, thank you so much for your support !
> 
> Feel free to leave a kudo or a comment, it's the best way to thank me if you like my story :D
> 
> See you soon for chapter 13!


	13. Notos or Martellato of an unexpected guilt fueled by suspicions of a reality of incendiary devastation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again !

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 13: Notos or Martellato of an unexpected guilt fueled by suspicions of a reality of incendiary devastation

  
_ The **martellato** is reminiscent of the "decrescendo", where it is a question of obtaining a progressive diminution of the sound. The attack is strong and then the progressive but rapid decrease. The sound obtained is comparable to ringing a bell. _

~~ _..._ ~~

The snakish man moved again at inhuman speed, mercilessly swiping the azure man's legs, knocking him down heavily on the drenched marble, before grabbing his ankle, dragging him to the bridge railing without paying any attention to his gesticulations. He tossed him against the balustrade, and the back and head of his burden slammed against the hard surface, snatching a growl out of him.

Ignoring the groggy American offered up to the whims of the weather, Gin rummaged through his many pockets, mumbling to himself. He emitted a purr of satisfaction when he finally got his hands on what he was looking for.

Focusing his attention on his prey, who was struggling to come to his senses, he leaned towards him, nesting his face in the hollow of his neck, sticking the tip of his icy nose against the warm, tanned skin.

Grimmjow, for his part, tried to find his bearings, blurred by the turbulent encounter between his skull and the inflexible rock of the balcony. When the world finally stopped spinning, it was so that a familiar scent came to caress his sensitive nostrils, despite the pouring rain.

Intrigued, Jaggerjack took a deep breath, seeking to recognize this fragrance, both frosty with shimmering menthol accents, yet warm as the fiery hues of a forest in autumn. It was when the tracker's immaculate strands tickled his cheekbone that he put his finger on the owner of the scent that filled his lungs.

His retreating movement was aborted by the cold, dripping stone of the railing. Gin smiled into the ultramarin man's neck before hugging him firmly, moving his hands down his lower back.

A scarlet mist fell in front of the azure's eyes. That was it. Let's call it a day. He was not a let-off for frustrated albinos. It had been three days since the entire world seemed to have agreed to piss him off as much as possible. That will do. That was beyond the pale. And the roars that resounded ever louder from the depths of his being were more than agree.

Ichimaru felt his prey begin to tremble against him. He smiled even more broadly. Finally. About time ! His venom was usually more effective. He hastened to finish what he had started, closing his hands on the shivering security chief's wrists, bringing them back to his back.

Grimmjow, drowning between his rage and the vindictive roars of his soul, only regained his footing with reality when he felt a metallic coldness lock on his wrists.

Alarmed, he raised his head, falling face to face with the albino's inexpressive figure, even more threatening than when he wore his endlessly sarcastic smile. He immediately tested his options by pulling on his restraints, quickly realizing that the tracker had not made fun of him.

The handcuffs that encircled his skin were abnormally heavy and extremely reduced in range. The chain had been passed around a wrought-iron bar that he identified as the foot of one of the braziers that illuminated the bridge and which was also riveted securely to the railing.

This discovery did not put an end to his shivers, on the contrary, it intensified them excessively.

_ ~~...~~ _

Gin had stepped back to admire his work, reveling in the vision of the azure man submitted against his will, in the more than appreciable sight of his muscular body dribbling under the nightly rain, randomly reflecting the flames of the braseros that continued to dance merrily despite the bad weather, his darkened strands plated on his husky face with a wild expression, highlighting the perfection of his stature.

\- Ichimaru...Untie me," Grimmjow articulated with difficulty.

The silvery one tilted his head slightly to the side, gazing tenderly at the American, his slit pupils reflecting his tacit latent dementia.

\- I can't do it. Not yet," he replied almost sadly, making the man quiver.

\- Untie me, damn it," he shouted as he rushed in his shackles, his eyes panicked.

-No. I'm almost there. I can't stop everything now.

\- Let me go ...," murmured the azure painfully lowering his head, masking his face from the tracker's sight.

Gin slowly drew closer and reached out his hand, brushing the bluet cheek of his still bleeding fingers, reaching up blindly to his wide-open ultramarine eyes, drowning in tears of distress. The tattooed man hadn't even noticed that he was still crying.

\- Gin...please...untie me," he begged. She hates it..."

Ichimaru shuddered unreasonably when he heard the American calling him by his first name for the very first time since they had known each other, and closed his eyes for a moment. Resolved, he took a deep breath and whispered:

\- I know.

Holding Grimmjow's chin firmly, he held his breath and raised his face.

Intransigent, he scanned the dilated pupils blurred with tears before finally releasing him, satisfied, withdrawing his hand, letting the shivering man's head fall back. Contemplating the bluet, he let himself fall in front of him, offering him an encouraging smile:

\- If you could see yourself...," hummed the silver-haired one in his direction.

The azure one, shaking, instinctively reacted to his voice, raising his head, exposing to the gaze of their undeclared public, still skillfully hidden behind his alcove, what the albino had methodically ascertained a moment earlier.

Grimmjow Jaggerjack's eyes had changed.

From ultramarine blue, they had turned to golden orange and his pupils had curved, giving him a genuinely feline look. And that wasn't the only change. His canines had lengthened, so much so that their tips now protruded from his half-opened mouth, giving off hoarse gasps, and his ears, which were now sharp at their tips.

The intruder, who had been careful not to change his hideout despite the pouring rain, choked off an exclamation of surprise at the sight of the obviously distressed American and began to retreat as the cracked eyes of the tracker came to rest avidly on his hiding place.

The albino, however, quickly turned his attention back to his prey when it made a heart-rending complaint as his body struggled against the transformation, and cautiously moved closer, for, he soon realized, something was wrong.

\- Grimmjow? he tried slowly, Grimmjow, kitten, look at me.

The azure riveted his flaming amber gaze into the clear, worried one of the stalker and articulated painfully between his sharp canines:

\- Gin, don't hurt her... Please...

The silvery one frowned violently when he heard his first name crossing the border of the man's lips again, for only the second time in five years, his expression turning into a thunderstorm. Something was wrong. He hadn't lied to him earlier, his venom ultimately allowed them to communicate frankly because tehilas couldn't lie to each other. So why hadn't the azure's soul mate taken over the metamorphosis yet? The transformation was supposed to take place quickly and relatively painlessly. He was thinking fast as the tattooed man twisted against his handcuffs, moaning painfully, his back arching violently. There weren't 50 possibilities! After a brief period of reflection, he estimated at two the number of options that really seemed plausible.

The shackled man made a panicked complaint as his ears stretched over his temples, covered with white fur with electric blue highlights, losing their typical human form.

The tracker bit his lip, focused. Squinting eyes, he studied the situation at breakneck speed, going over the events of the evening step by step. 

_ ~~...~~ _

First, he had had a rough day, well, it could happen to anyone. Secondly, his meeting with the one whose name shouldn't be pronounced hadn't helped, so he went to the little night shindig, to stay polite, which was held at the citadel to change his mind. He could always count on what mankind did worst to immerse himself in a fluffy foolishness, a regenerative extravagance that usually did him the greatest good. Thirdly, he had fallen, or rather these three turkeys had fallen on HIM, very pretty turkeys for that matter, and he was going to enjoy them until a particularly attractive blue feline came into the equation and changed his target, and that was a great pity for the three hens. And fourthly, said feline proved to be even more entertaining than expected, offering him a delicious hunt and a refreshing resistance, even going so far as to remind him of the color of his own blood.

Twice.

The first bite may have made him a little angry, certainly. He was willing to admit it. Perhaps he had overstepped the mark by then. Barely. No one had ever said that managing two tehilas made you patient, compassionate and righteous. On second thought, it was quite the opposite. The akicitas agreed that sheltering two soul mates made everything more...extreme. Stronger, more intense, more...violent. The sensations are magnified, the desires exacerbated. Few men would be able to accomplish what Gin almost negligently handled on a daily basis. This man was a born tightrope walker, progressing on the razor's edge of madness, swaying here and there according to his moods.

But all things considered, he hadn't damaged him that badly, Aizen-Sama's favorite little kitten. Well, a tiny bite here, a couple of bruises there, a little shock to the temple, nothing bad. So far.

The metamorphosis of the azure man was far too laborious to be well underway. Gin saw only two possible explanations. Either the bluish color was not used to Hanbleceya, which could partly explain this distressing lack of ease, or... Theoretically it was possible to suppress the appearance of tehila by practicing a specific ritual, thus preventing the performance of Hanbleceya.

In the past, this ceremonial had been used and abused, mainly on prisoners of war, during major clan conflicts. Nevertheless, these archaic rites had gradually fallen into disuse, requiring too much preparation, vast knowledge and forgotten artifacts.

However, these rituals had been branded into the clans' living memory, both because of their extraordinary cruelty and because of the disgusting suffering, both physical and mental, that they inflicted on the therian, who saw his soul mate sealed in his flesh.

Even someone like Gin Ichimaru found it difficult to even consider the abhorrent possibility, and the horror of these rites was almost unbearable. He who shared his soul with two companions, he was all the more sensitive to it. To do this to a therian and his tehila was just... inconceivable.

As a specialist in the submission of bodies, he rightly considered the soul to be sacred. To infringe on this private domain, this intimate space dedicated to complementary beings, to defile what he considered to be the summit of purity, was unacceptable.

_ ~~...~~ _

A pathetic whimper drew him from his unbridled reflection, shifting his attention to the man who was struggling weakly against the icy marble of the balustrade. Ichimaru frowned and approached until he was crouching in front of the bluet. Grimmjow painfully raised his head, his eyes gleaming painfully under the fringe formed by his darkened, rain-soaked locks, plunging into the opaline abyss of the tracker's split irises who shivered in spite of himself.

More than any other manifestation, it was the panic fear dancing in the depths of Grimmjow's tawny eyes that drove down all his certainties.

The tattooed man looked drained, as if all his strength had been consumed by his struggle. Never before had he looked so much like a wild beast cornered as he did at that moment. Ichimaru knew it, a wounded animal that had lost all hope of escape was lethally dangerous. But here, it was still the man in torment, and not the beast, that was staring at him with a will of steel, even exhausted and within a hair's breadth of nervous breakdown.

An unknown feeling briefly ran through the tracker at the sight of the consequences of his act, and he felt a fist painfully clenching in his chest.

_ ~~...~~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your loyalty and support!
> 
> The best possible thanks : a small comment or click on the KUDO button :)
> 
> See you soon for chapter 14


	14. Barrani or Acciacatura of the anguished collapse of a certainty and the resulting void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody ! Glad to have you back :D
> 
> Here we go again, chapter 14 !

Scavengers hide to purr and dance OR When the Orient Winds Blow

Chapter 14: Barrani or Acciacatura of the anguished collapse of a certainty and the resulting void

_ "In music, a short appoggiatura (or **acciacatura** ) is an ornament used to delay the next note, the main note, which is to be emphasized. The same word also designates a note foreign to the harmony. _

~~_... _ ~~

He didn't understand.

Violence, yes, that he understood, and very well even. It was his usual means of communication with Jaggerjack.

Subtlety, flattery, manipulation, sycophancy, gentleness, irony, sarcasm, gallantry, this prodigious panel, this palette of social nuances which he used to perfection, by small, judiciously placed touches, like a painter on his master canvas, none of this was useful to him in this case. Nothing in his worldly or even military arsenal seemed appropriate to him in the present situation.

His convictions, his certainties, seemed to have been shattered, and his mind, far from the sanitized oasis of ordered serenity and absolute control that he loved to rule, was in a nameless mess. In this dendritic maelstrom, he could only manage to seize in flight a few remnants of his self-control reduced to nothing, grasping the void every other time, a shred of phlegm here, a splinter of cold-bloodedness there. Without really being able to apprehend what he had before his eyes, self-designated mortician of this psychological cemetery made of flesh and bones, he pursued the anoxic shards of this neuronic slurry, alternately carrion and gravedigger.

Yet, as he methodically searched the chimeric open-air entrails of his personal spiritual morgue, he made a discovery. An incredibly tenacious impression clung to him, his claws firmly planted in the blasted floor of the ruins of his mental palace. A feeling of emptiness, paradoxically so consistent, a feeling of hollowness that he knew well.  
A hungry frustration, eager for answers, a thirst for knowledge that could not be quenched, inextinguishable. Yet easily condensed into a single word.

Why?

Why.

The painful spot in his chest tightened again, exuding an unpleasant heat that gradually spread like a huge fire, devouring everything in its path, feeding on the charred remains of the hurricane that had methodically ruined his confidence and certainties.

  
He. Wanted. To understand.

  
Suddenly grabbing Grimmjow's shoulders, Gin forced him to look up, pushing away with an impatient hand his almost transparent, soaked locks that obscured his view. He probed the tired feline amber orbs that still shimmered like stars in the firmament.

  
Why?" he inquired in an urgent tone. Why don't you change? Don't you know how to do it? Can't you do it? »

  
Grimmjow gave him a desperate glance, his prominent canines of pure ivory white still kept his jaw open, slightly distorting his words:

  
\- Stop it. It's not going to work anyway... so let me go.

\- Why won't it work? What do you know about that?

\- Ichimaru... Please...," he murmured, the weary tone of his voice belied by the endless stream of pain reflected in his eyes.

\- I just want to understand, what's wrong with that," Gin mumbled to himself, unconsciously biting his thumb. Earlier you asked me not to hurt her, you were talking about her! You knew she was going to come and take your place, otherwise you wouldn't have said that! So why are you telling me that Hanbleceya is impeded now? Have you changed your mind? You can't fight the change and you know it. You don't have enough practice, do you?!

\- It's...really so im...so important to you to always...understand everything...," the blue-haired one grimaced with difficulty, taking advantage of a brief lull in his martyrdom.

\- More than anything else in the world, the tracker honestly answered without even a second's thought, devouring the tattooed man with his cracked pupils.

\- Tch, you're really ... a first-rate sociopath ... if I tell you, you let me go ...," whispered the disillusioned blueness, grasping a crazy and ultimate glimmer of hope of escape, eyes fearful of anticipation.

\- If it's worth it, we'll see, at least I'll stop the pain. Take it or leave it.

\- Shit, damn you! Ok...well we have to hurry, we're going to ...not be able to hold on any lon...longer...you have to...oh no no no...not now Panth'...not no-aaaaah!

  
Grimmjow suddenly uttered a heart-rending scream of distress mixed with pure suffering, his imposing mass jerked back and forth as if all the nerves in his body were being bombarded with electrical impulses simultaneously, his head thrown back, forcing Gin to hug him tightly and put all his weight on his back to prevent him from hitting the marble of the railing. Lying on top of the tattooed man, the tracker, more frustrated than ever, clenched his teeth, trying as best he could to immobilize the robust body that was struggling furiously against his shackles, letting out whistling sounds of pain.

Suddenly, the seizures ceased as suddenly as they had begun, leaving Ichimaru gasping, his torso pressed against the crease of the azure's waist which was breathing heavily.

  
\- That's it, you're done? Can you explain now? "the impatient silvery breathed.

  
Ichimaru's sentence remained suspended, the unreal silence of the scene only broken by the regular plicking of raindrops on the flooded marble and the abnormally hoarse breathing of Jaggerjack, still lying face down on the soaked floor, his arms painfully drawn towards the wrought-iron stand of the brazier to which he was still handcuffed.

\- "Oï?"

Ichimaru was stretching out his arm to turn over the ultramarine man's body when an extremely muffled roar vibrated the American's muscular chest while at the same time, a slender shadow burst from behind the bowl of the iridescent brazier and rushed at the man lying on the icy stone.

The tracker suspended his gesture when he recognized Khamsim at the last second, his ebony and ochre-soaked fur plated on his ribs, who had observed the scene from the relative shelter of the basin and was now vigorously brushing against the shoulder of the security chief.

He eventually straightened up somehow on all-four, his limbs still trembling. Khamsim, on the other hand, was purring with the energy of despair, trying to reach the jaws of the azure while pushing small delighted meows.

Ichimaru raised an eyebrow before trying his initial movement again, directing his valid hand towards the overseas strands. Immediately, the tawny ears covered with bluish fur, which had replaced the roundness of the human ears of the tattooed man, laid down on his skull and a threatening growl rose in the silence so particular of the rainy nights of the East. The body of the azure man was sharply gathered on itself, in a defensive position so fluid, so animal that the doubt struck the albino.

  
\- Grimmjow?

  
The growl resounded again, preventive.

And the azure raised his head.

  
\- And fuck....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Special thanks to CMIYC, your comment meant the world to me)
> 
> See you next time ! 
> 
> Kudo and comments are precious and special happy times that illuminate my days


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